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tihvaxy  of  Che  t:heolo0ical  ^eminarjo 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

Dr.  Donald  Roberta 

BV  3705  .M3P3  1890 
Page,  Jesse. 

Henry  Martyn,  his  life  and 
labours 


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^SFP24   1)4 

Henry     Martyn 

HIS 

CAMBRIDGE-IHDIA-PERSIA. 


JESSE   ^PAGE 

AbTHOK    OK    "lUSHOP    PATIESOM,     IHK    MAKIYK    Ol--    MELANESIA,"     ETC. 

ILLUSTRA7T.D   BY   H.    A\    MILLAR,    ETC. 


A  chosen  vessel,  frail  but  richly  blest 
'1  With  mercy's  fragrant  message,  this  outpoured 

The  dusky  heathen  breathed,  and  sought  the  Lord, 
The  sinner's  Saviour  and  the  perfect  rest. 


FLEMING    H.    REVELL    COMPANY, 

NEW    YORK.  CHICAGO. 

TORONTO. 


PREFACE. 


M^ 


mind  is  in  a  chaos  about  him,"  said 
Charles  Kingsley,  speaking  one  day  of 
Henry  Martyn,  "  sometimes  one  feels 
inclined  to  take  him  at  his  own  word, 
and  believe  him  as  he  says,  a  mere  hypochondriac, 
then  the  next  moment  he  seems  a  saint.  I  cannot 
fathom  it.  Of  this,  however,  I  am  certain,  that  he 
was  a  much  better  man  than  I  am." 

This  characteristic  opinion  fairly  hits  the  general 
impression,  although,  perhaps,  many  would  fail  to 
round  it  off  with  the  generous  certainty  of  Kingsley's 
closing  words.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  in  an  age 
when  missionary  interest  is  at  flood-tide,  and  the 
heroisms  of  the  field  of  God  are  being  recognised 
on  every  hand,  Henry  Martyn  is  comparatively 
unknown. 

V 


VI  PREFACE. 

On  the  horizon  of  the  century  he  is  dimly  discerned, 
a  luminous  shadow  far  away,  but  felt  to  be  that  of 
one  who  was  brave,  and  good,  and  suffering,  who 
toiled  his  life  away  for  others,  and  died  in  almost 
tragic  solitude,  friendless  and  alone.  But  distance 
weakens  the  true  influence  of  a  man,  though  it  may 
glorify  his  memory;  therefore,  I  have  made  the 
endeavour  in  the  pages  of  this  book  to  correct  the 
focus  of  vision,  and  bring  Henry  Martyn,  if  possible, 
a  little  nearer  to  us  in  clear  and  vivid  outline, 
instinct  with  reality  and  life.  He  is,  indeed,  a  per- 
sonality well  worth  the  knowing. 

In  many  respects  this  man  continually  reminds 
one  of  Gordon  ;  for  in  him  we  see  the  same  heroic  idea 
of  duty,  the  same  unselfishness  and  utter  disregard  of 
personal  ends,  the  same  intimate  and  sustaining  com- 
munion with  his  God,  the  same  humbling  yet  uplifting 
sense  of  the  reality  and  importance  of  the  eternal 
things  unseen.  Martyn  was  not  less  a  warrior  than 
Gordon,  fighting,  indeed,  with  desperate  valour,  against 
the  foes  of  God  and  His  Christ,  and  it  was  his  destiny 
also,  alone  in  a  land  of  fierce  enemies,  under  a  blue 
Oriental  sky,  to  fall  at  his  flagstaff,  loyal  and  true  till 
death. 
/  There  is  no  danger  of  idealising  a  man  like  Martyn, 
the  difficulty  rather  lies  in  getting  the  background 
black  enough  to  do  him  justice.  He  was  a  pioneer, 
let  it  always  be  remembered,  and  had  to  face 
difficulties  which,  like  a  tangled  African  forest,  must 
be  cut  through  with  infinite  patience  and  prevalent 
prayer;   his  successors  entering  into  the  fruit  of  his 


nkt:fAcB.  vii 

labours  have,  in  later  days,  found  "  in  the  wilderness 
a  highway  for  our  God."  Let  any  one  take  the 
trouble  to  discover  what  were  the  prospects  of  mis- 
sionary success  under  the  East  India  Company,  or  in 
the  almost  untrodden  plains  of  Persia,  with  its 
undisturbed  Mohammedanism,  and  then  estimate  the 
mettle  of  Henry  Martyn's  zeal  for  God.  Dark,  cruel, 
and  infernal,  was  his  environment  in  the  East,  the 
brave  light  of  the  truth  flickering  all  the  brighter 
amid  the  gloom. 
\^  Henry  Martyn  had  an  old-fashioned  belief  in  the 
power  of  the  Bible,  and  the  reality  of  the  Devil. 
There  is  something  very  refreshing  in  the  loyal 
reverence  and  confidence  with  which  Henry  Martyn, 
in  all  his  trials  and  difficulties,  read,  with  an  increas- 
ing delight,  the  Word  of  God.  His  letters  and  journals 
show  how  richly  his  memory  was  stored  with  texts, 
and  again  and  again  we  catch  glimpses  of  his  feeding 
in  the  green  pastures  of  the  promises  when  assailed, 
persecuted,  and  alone.  It  is  not  surprising,  there- 
fore, to  find  how  much  he  valued  the  importance  of 
his  incessant  labours  in  translating  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
which  he  felt,  even  if  no  evangelist  came  to  point  the 
way,  were  sufficient  to  make  the  heathen  "  wise  unto 
salvation."  His  belief  in  a  real  Devil  was  not  less 
assured,  and  the  evidence  of  his  existence,  and  evil 
workings  for  the  spiritual  destruction  of  man,  filled 
his  soul  with  indignation  and  sorrow.  It  is  impossible 
to  understand  this  man  unless  from  this  standpoint ; 
to  those  who  have  flabby  ideas  of  good  and  evil,  and 
are  busy  in  constructing  a  bridge  of  accommodation 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

between  the  two,  to  such  of  course  his  life  and 
character  is  fanaticism  pure  and  simple. 

Surely  never  was  a  man  so  utterly  dissatisfied  with 
himself  as  Henry  Martyn.  His  journals  and  letters 
are  introspective  to  a  painful  degree  ;  he  seems  to 
bring  every  little  motive,  and  the  tenderest  affections, 
under  the  microscope  of  a  self-criticism,  which  gener- 
ally brings  in  a  speedy  verdict  of  guilty.  One  could 
shed  tears  of  pity  over  the  picture  of  this  sincere  soul, 
self- condemned,  and  eclipsed  continually  by  the 
gloomy  theology  of  his  time.  Still,  through  all 
these  storms  and  drifting  clouds  the  clear  star  of  an 
unshaken  faith  in  Christ,  reappearing  ever,  gleams 
.brightly  in  his  sky. 

The  mental  constitution  of  Henry  Martyn  is  a 
complex  study  in  metaphysics,  and  some  of  his 
previous  biographers  have,  from  different  bases  of 
judgment,  very  ably  discussed  the  problem.  In  the 
closing  chapter  of  the  present  volume  I  have  given  a 
brief  bibliography  of  Martyn,  indicating  the  views 
taken  by  my  predecessors  in  this  interesting  history 
of  a  human  soul.  I  cannot  acknowledge  sufficiently 
my  indebtedness  to  these  excellent  works  of  reference. 
My  thanks  are  also  specially  due  to  Mr.  Henry  Martyn 
Jeffreys,  M.A.,  F.R.S.,  for  much  special  information  as 
regards  his  distinguished  relative.  An  acknowledg- 
ment is  also  due  to  friends  both  in  Cambridge  and 
London  who  have  kindly  aided  me  in  the  work  of 

research. 

Jesse  Page. 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

THE   BOY  AND  THE  STUDENT, II 

CHAPTER    II. 
THE  CHOICE   MADE, .  .29 

CHAPTER  III. 

OUTWARD   BOUND, 44 

CHAPTER  IV. 

INDIA    FOR   CHRIST, 60 

CHAPTER  V. 

FACING   THE   ENEMY, 72 

CHAPTER  VI. 
SORROW   FORGOTTEN   IN   LABOUR, Sy 

ix 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   WORD   OF  GOD   FOR   THE  PEOPLE,       . 


PAGE 
.  .  98 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


BREAKS   DOWN, 


1 10 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PERSECUTION   IN   PERSIA,    . 


123 


CHAPTER  X. 

ENTERS  THE  PRESENCE   FOR   EVERMORE, 


134 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE   MAN    HIMSELF,     . 


147 


HENRY    MARTYR 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE   BOY   AND   THE   STUDENT. 


Teach  me,  my  God  and  King, 

In  all  things  Thee  to  see. 
And  what  I  do  in  anything. 


To  do  it  as  for  Thee. 


■George  Herbert. 


CORNISHMEN,  meet  them  where  you  will,  are 
always  found  possessed  of  a  strong  and  proud 
affection  for  the  county  wherein  they  were 
born.  They  kindle  with  animated  interest  at 
the  mention  of  the  land  of  "  One  and  all,"  bearing  with 
them  always  that  characteristic  love  of  country  which 
a  Scotchman  experiences  in  no  greater  degree  for  his 
native  heather. 

This  loyalty  is  well-deserved.  Cornwall  is  a  mag- 
nificent county,  and  has  a  history  which  invests  its 
wild  scenery  with  names  and  events  still  cherished  as 
national   memories.     A   witty  Canon  once  remarked 

II 


12  HENRY   MARTYN. 

that  England  grows  men  in  the  north  and  trees  in  the 
south,  but  this  is  certainly  not  true  of  Cornwall,  for 
she  is  the  parent  of  noble  sons.  The  bede  roll  of  her 
worthies  includes  the  Arundels  of  chivalrous  renown, 
that  gallant  admiral  Sir  William  Bligh,  Sir  Hum- 
phry Davy  who  gave  safe  light  to  the  miner  in  his 
toil,  Samuel  Foote,  the  keen  wit  and  satirist,  the 
courageous  explorer  Richard  Lander,  Opie  the 
painter,  Trevethick  the  engineer,  and  last,  not  least, 
the  subject  of  the  present  memoir. 

Henry  Martyn  is  not  counted  as  one  of  her 
warriors,  and  yet  he  was  as  brave  a  knight  as  ever 
carried  the  pennon  of  the  Cross  ;  he  crossed  her  bor- 
der in  his  boyhood,  but  it  was  to  win  the  highest 
University  honours,  and  though,  dying  in  lonely 
martyrdom  on  Persian  soil,  his  ashes  lie  not  in  a 
Cornish  churchyard,  his  memory  clings  inseparably, 
like  a  sweet  fragrance,  to  ancient  Truro  and  the  hills 
of  Marazion. 

The  parentage  of  Martyn,  like  that  of  so  many 
J  whose  names  have  gained  high  honour,  was  of  no 
patrician  order ;  he  sprang  from  the  people,  and 
his  biographers  do  not  appear  to  have  needlessly 
wearied  themselves  in  discovering  for  him  an  heraldic 
line.  About  his  father  little  apparently  is  preserved, 
but  what  we  know  is  entirely  honourable.  It  has 
been  frequently  stated  by  the  biographers  of  his  dis- 
tinguished son  that  John  Martyn  worked  as  miner  in 
the  famous  lead  mines  of  Gwennap — a  place  which  has 
quite  a  history,  both  past  and  present,  as  the  gather- 
ing ground  of  thousands  of  people  for  religious  exer- 
cises— but  this  has  been  demurred  to  by  his  present 
representatives.  It  was  at  Gwennap  pit  that  John 
Wesley  addressed  some  thousands  of  the  miners  of 


THE   r.OY   AND   THE   STUDENT.  I3 

the  ncl^f^hbourhood  on  the  unsearchable  riches  of  the 
Kinodom  of  God,  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  amon^ 
his  vast  auditory  on  that  occasion,  John  Martyn, 
though  not  actually  a  miner,  might  have  found  a 
place.  If  such  was  the  case,  how  marvellous  is  the 
thought  that  the  voice  of  the  evangelist  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  was  reaching  the  ear  and  heart  of  one 
whose  son  was  to  be  the  pioneer  missionary  to  the 
heathen  of  the  East. 

This  much,  also,  we  glean  of  John  Martyn's  history, 
that  in  those  wearying  days  of  toil,  under  circum- 
stances and  conditions  infinitely  worse  than  those 
of  the  miners  of  to-day,  this  man  found  opportunity 
for  the  attainment  of  knowledge,  educating  himself  in 
the  simpler  branches  of  study.  We  understand  that 
the  present  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  an  address 
delivered  at  Truro  on  the  i8th  of  February,  1881, 
gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  Henry  Martyn  "  must  have 
descended  frorfi  an  ancient  humble  family,  for  there 
was  a  John  Martyn  at  Gwennap  in  1695,  father  of 
the  Thomas  Martyn  who  made  the  famous  map  of 
Cornwall."  The  probability  is  that  Mr.  John  Martyn 
belonged  to  a  family  of  mine  agents  or  captains,  men 
who  held  good  positions  of  trust  and  experience,  and 
it  is  stated  that  he  was  as  a  young  man  put  as 
accountant  at  the  Wheal  Virgin  Mine,  living  with  his 
young  family  at  Gwennap  Church-town.  From  this 
place,  however,  he  presently  migrated  to  Truro,  enter- 
ing the  office  of  a  Mr.  Daniel  of  that  town,  where  he 
remained  for  many  years,  rising  in  position  and  in  the 
esteem  of  his  employer.  This,  then,  was  Martyn's 
father,  dimly  seen  through  the  haze  of  a  century,  a 
tall  man  of  erect  bearing,  quietly  taking  his  constitu- 
tional   after   office    hours    along    the    old-fashioned 


>y 


A 


14  HENRY   MARTYN. 

irregular  Truro  streets.  The  lady  whom  he  had 
married  was  a  Miss  Fleming,  of  Ilfracombe,  about 
whom  still  less  is  known,  save  that  she  was  delicate 
and  consumptive.  The  table  of  the  merchant's  clerk 
seems  to  have  been  graced  with  many  olive  branches, 
all,  however,  more  or  less  frail,  and  withering  early,  so 
that,  when  the  father  was  laid  to  rest,  only  four  sur- 
vived to  linger  but  a  few  years  ere  they  too  were 
called  away.  One  of  these  was  Henry,  who  was  born 
on  the  1 8th  of  February,  1781. 

That  "  the  boy  is  father  of  the  man  "  has  become 
such  a  generally  accepted  doctrine  that  there  is  a  little 
danger  in  always  insisting  on  the  recognition  of  those 
lines  of  character  in  early  life  which  shall  forecast 
future  fame.  Doubtless,  in  many  cases  the  presenti- 
ment of  genius  and  power  is  early  portrayed,  but  in 
not  a  few  instances  a  grand  and  influential  career  has 
grown  out  of  a  very  prosaic  and  undistinguished  boy- 
hood. It  is  not  so  much  in  the  child  as  in  the  young 
man  that  we  should  look  for  signs  of  promise,  when 
the  boyish  environment  is  exchanged  for  the  school  of 
life,  and  the  realities  of  living  begin  to  be  appreciated, 
for  it  is  then  the  true  lineaments  of  character  appear. 
Such  at  any  rate  was  the  case  with  Henry  Martyn. 
Piecing  carefully  together  the  little  scraps  of  informa- 
tion which  exist  as  to  his  early  days,'we  cannot  find 
that  he  materially  impressed  his  contemporaries  who 
sat  on  the  form  at  school  with  him,  with  any  sense  of 
his  intellectual  and  moral  superiority.  He  is  described 
by  one  of  them  as  *' a  good-humoured,  plain,  little  fellow, 
with  red  eyelids  devoid  of  eyelashes,  indicative  of  a 
scrofulous  habit,'!  and  all  accounts  agree  in  describing 
him  as  a  weak  and  ailing  boy.  He  was,  like  most 
others  of  delicate  constitution,  shy  and  unobtrusive ; 


THE    BOV   AND   THE   STUDENT. 


15 


he  avoided  the  boisterous  games  of  others,  and  found 
himself  out  of  touch  with  that  healthy  excitement 
which  adds  so  much  to  the  charm  of  school  life.  It 
however,  said    of   him  that    he  was    fond    of  the 


IS 


younger  boys,  and  doubtless  his  inoffensive  and 
sympathetic  disposition  would  attract  them.  ]^ut, 
h'ke   Cowpcr,  from   the  elder  lads  he  received   rough 


treatment,  probably  had  to  "  fag "  for  some,  and 
would  have  suffered  many  more  indignities  had  it  not 
been  for  the  chivalrous  protection  afforded  him  by 
one  who  not  only  was  his  champion  at  school,  but 
had  to  be  his  wise  counsellor  and  friend  in  after 
years. 

Henry  Martyn  had   the  advantage  of  entering,  at 


l5  HENRY   MARTYN. 

the  early  age  of  seven,  one  of  the  best  schools  in 
Cornwall.  Dr.  Cornelius  Cardew,  its  master,  was  a 
man  of  no  mean  attainments,  and  seems  to  have  had 
the  happy  art  of  understanding  the  characteristics  of 
his  numerous  pupils.  Martyn  had  not  been  long 
under  his  care  before  he  had  pretty  fairly  reckoned 
up  the  boy,  and  the  impression  he  then  formed  he 
has  happily  treasured.  "  He  did  not  fail,"  says  Dr. 
Cardew,  "  to  answer  the  expectations  which  had  been 
formed  of  him,  his  proficiency  in  the  classics  exceeded 
that  of  most  of  his  schoolfellows,  yet  there  were  boys 
who  made  a  more  rapid  progress  : — not  perhaps  that 
their  abilities  were  superior  but  their  application  was 
greater,  for  he  was  of  a  loving,  cheerful  temper,  and, 
as  I  have  been  told  by  those  who  sat  near  him, 
appeared  to  be  the  idlest  among  them,  being  frequently 
known  to  go  up  to  his  lesson  with  little  or  no  prepara- 
tion— as  if  he  had  learnt  it  by  intuition." 

Still  he  must  have  had  some  working  ambition  in 
ihim,  or  he  would  not  have  had  the  courage  to  aim  so 
/high  as  to  offer  himself  as  a  candidate  for  a  scholar- 
f  ship  at  Corpus  Christi  College,  Oxford,  in  the  closing 
months  of  the  year  1795.  Something  there  must 
have  been,  too,  of  promise  in  the  boy,  for  it  was  at  the 
urgent  desire  of  his  friends  that  he  essayed  so  great 
a  venture  for  a  lad  of  fourteen.  In  the  examination, 
he  did  well,  but  failed  to  gain  the  scholarship,  return- 
ing somewhat  sadly,  no  doubt,  to  the  academic  roof 
of  Dr.  Cardew  once  more. 

Years  afterwards,  when  he  had  reached  man's  estate, 
he  reverted  to  this  incident  with  that  grateful  sense  of 
the  over-ruling  providence  of  God,  which  was  the 
marked  characteristic  of  his  life.  He  wrote  then  in  his 
journal : — "  In  the  autumn  of  1795,  my  father  at  the 


THE   I50Y   AND   TIIF   STUDENT.  17 

persuasion  of  many  of  his  friends  sent  me  to  Oxford 
to  be  a  candidate  for  the  vacant  scholarship  at  Corpus  '■ 
Christi.  I  entered  at  no  college,  but  had  rooms  at 
]^:xetcr  Collci;e  by  the  interest  of  Mr.  Cole,  the 
sub-rector.  I  passed  the  examination,  I  believe, 
tolerably  well,  but  was  unsuccessful,  having  every 
reason  to  think  that  the  decision  was  impartial.  Had 
I  remained  and  become  a  member  of  the  University 
at  that  time,  as  I  should  have  done  in  case  of  success, 
the  profligate  acquaintances  I  should  have  had  there, 
would  have  introduced  me  to  scenes  of  debauchery, 
in  which  I  must  in  all  probability,  from  my  extreme 
}'OUth,  have  sunk  for  ever."  In  this,  Martyn  rightly 
discerned  the  hand  of  God,  who  had  for  him  some 
better  thing  in  store,  even  that  of  witnessing  for  the 
Cross  in  far-off  lands. 

He  stayed  two  more  years  at  school,  making 
further  progress  with  his  studies,  where,  indeed,  we 
will  now  leave  him  standing  expectant  on  the  thres- 
hold of  his  distinguished  academic  career. 

If  Cornwall  is  proud  of  the  parentage  of  Martyn,  not 
less  does  Cambridge  treasure  his  name  in  her  lists  of 
University  honours.  When  in  the  month  of  October,  ^ 
I797>  he  entered  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge,  it  was, 
though  possibly  he  little  thought  so  then,  one  of  those 
turnijig  points  which  really  determined  not  only  the 
future^of  his  work  in  the  world,  but  the  establishment 
of  his  own  character.  He  seems  to  have  thrown 
himself  into  the  current  of  a  hard  reader,  and  what 
application  he  may  have  lacked  in  the  days  of  his 
boyhood  was  amply  supplied  when  his  University!  5 
career  began.  Before  the  {c\n  months  left  of  his  firsV 
term  had  expired,  he  had  by  dint  of  arduous  study 
gained  a  first-class  place  in  the  College  examination, 


V 


1 8  HENRY   MARTYN. 

and  he  again  won  a  good  position  in  the  examination 
of  the  following  year.  Two  things  were  helpful  to 
him  at  this  time,  one  the  laudable  desire  to  gratify 
his  father,  who  seems  to  have  had  a  strong  faith  in 
his  son's  future  advancement,  the  other  being  the 
presence  and  help  of  that  steadfast  friend,  who  had 
stood  by  him  at  school  and  now  exercised  a  sort  of 
elder-brotherly  influence  over  him  at  the  University. 
Had  it  not  been  for  this  discreet  adviser,  Henry 
Martyn  would  have  allowed  himself  to  lose  precious 
time  in  the  companionship  of  his  many  acquaintances 
at  the  College. 

He  went  home  during  the  vacation,  and,  in  his 
subsequent  journal,  he  has  referred  to  that  visit  in 
the  spirit  of  self-depreciation  which  is  so  strongly 
exhibited  in  every  page  of  his  writing.  There  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  that  he  was  otherwise  than  of  an 
amiable  temperament,  and  a  good  son  to  those  who 
loved  him  so  well  in  the  old  home  at  Truro.  There 
is  certainly  one  occasion  on  record  when  a  fit  of 
passion  seized  him  at  table,  and  he  hastily  flung  a 
knife  at  one  of  his  companions  who  had  offended  him 
in  some  way.  Fortunately,  the  missile  missed  its 
mark,  and  the  occurrence  caused  him  poignant  regret 
and  humiliation  for  a  long  time  afterwards.  The 
[truth  is  that  up  to  this  time,  Henry  Martyn  had  not 
I  become  a  Christian.  Although  in  outward  observ- 
ance his  conduct  may  have  been  all  that  could  be 
desired,  it  is  evident  that  the  young  student  had  not 
come  into  living  and  personal  contact  with  the 
Saviour,  in  whose  service  he  was  destined  ere  long  to 
become  so  useful  and  honoured.  He  had  those  who 
prayed  for  him  and  sought  his  spiritual  good,  and 
he  tells   us   that    his   friend  at   the    University   had 


ST.  John's  college,  Cambridge 


19 


Till':    i;<)\'    AM)     IJIK    STUDMXT.  21 

"  attempted  to  persuade  mc  that  I  oiii,dit  to  attend  to 
reading,  not  for  the  praise  of  men  but  for  the  glory 
of  God.  This  seemed  strange  to  me,  but  reasonable. 
I  resolved,  therefore,  to  maintain  this  opinion  thence- 
forth, but  never  designed,  that  I  can  remember,  that 
it  should  affect  my  conduct." 

But  the  most  potent  influence  brought  to  bear  upon 
Henry  Martyn  in  this  respect  was  that  of  his  sister  at! 
home  whose  life  and  example  were  those  of  a  consist-i 
cnt  servant  of  Jesus  Christ.  When  he  was  in  Cornwall 
she  did  not  cease  to  urge  upon  him  the  importance  of 
decision,  showing  him  the  claims  of  Christ  and  the 
happiness  which  is  in  store  for  those  who,  by  His 
grace,  work  for  His  glory.  Judging  from  his  own 
retrospect  of  this  visit,  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
given  the  saintly  woman  much  room  for  encourage- 
ment. Possibly  the  love  of  academic  fame  was  his 
stumbling-block,  and  with  such  a  pride  on  his  heart  he 
would  be  little  inclined  to  think  on  the  deep  things  of 
God.  Although  it  must  be  believed  that  he  overstates 
the  case  against  himself  in  these  words,  we  cannot  do 
better  than  hear  his  own  impressions  at  this  time. 
He  writes  this  when,  as  a  Christian,  he  could  feel  great 
grief  at  having  disregarded  his  sister's  admonitions : 
— "  I  think  I  do  not  remember  a  time  in  which  the 
wickedness  of  my  heart  rose  to  a  greater  height  than 
during  my  stay  at  home.  The  consummate  selfish- 
ness and  exquisite  irritability  of  my  mind  here  dis- 
pla}'ed  in  rage,  malice,  and  envy,  in  pride  and  vain 
glory  and  contempt  of  all  ;  in  the  harshest  language 
to  my  sister  and  even  to  my  father  if  he  happened  to 
differ  from  my  mind  and  will ;  oh  what  an  example 
of  patience  and  meekness  was  he  !  I  love  to  think  of 
his  excellent  qualities,  and  it  is  frequently  the  anguish 


22  HENRY   MARTi^N. 

of  my  heart  that  I  ever  could  be  base  and  wicked 
enough  to  pain  him  by  the  slightest  neglect.  O  my 
God  and  Father,  why  is  not  Thy  heart  doubly  agon- 
ised at  the  remembrance  of  all  my  great  transgres- 
sions against  Thee  ever  since  I  have  known  Thee  as 
such.  I  left  my  sister  and  father  in  October,  and  him 
I  saw  no  more.  I  promised  my  sister  that  I  would 
read  the  Bible  for  myself,  but  on  being  settled  at 
College  Newton  engaged  all  my  thoughts." 

But  what  the  living  could  not  do,  the  dead  accom- 
plished. Henry  Martyn  had  scarcely  settled  down 
again  to  his  studies,  losing  in  his  intense  love  of 
mathematics  the  promised  interest  in  heavenly  things, 
when  news  reached  him  that  his  father  was  no  more. 
The  shock  was  such  as  any  loving  son  might  feel, 
but  in  his  case  the  grief  was  aggravated  by  the  fact 
that  he  had  paid  such  scant  attention  to  the  pious 
counsel  of  this  parent  now  for  ever  removed.  Stunned 
by  such  a  sudden  bereavement,  he  was  led  to  seek 
some  real  source  of  comfort  and  satisfaction  in  his 
trouble. 

i  He  tells  us  that  he  laid  aside  his  books  and  began 
(to  read  his  neglected  Bible,,  not  with  any  deeper 
desire  at  first  than  to  please  his  friend,  who  seems  at 
this  juncture  to  have  again  approached  him  on  the 
subject  of  giving  his  heart  to  God.  He  opened  his 
Bible  at  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  read  on  with 
interest  until  the  Epistles  claimed  his  attention.  That 
night  Henry  Martyn,  though  as  yet  but  dimly  and 
imperfectly  apprehending  the  truth,  knelt  down  at  his 
bedside  and  prayed  a  prayer  of  sincere  thanksgiving 
to  God  for  sending  His  Son  into  the  world  to  die  for 
sinners.  His  attendance  at  the  College  chapel  also 
stimulated  his  aroused  convictions,  and  a  copy  of  Dr. 


THE   BOY   AND   THE   STUDENT.  23 

Doddridge's  "  Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion  in  the 
Soul  "  coming  into  his  hand,  caused  the  young  student 
much  searching  of  heart. 

The  approach  of  another  examination  called  him 
back  to  his  studies,  and  when  the  list  appeared  his 
name  stood  first,  an  honour  which  was  dashed  with  the 
thought  that  the  success  had  come  too  late  for  a  father's 
joy.  lie  writes,  however,  to  his  sister,  and  amongst 
his  letter  sentiments,  which  are  far  more  precious  to 
her  than  the  place  he  had  gained  in  the  examination, 
he  tells  her,  "  What  a  blessing  it  is  for  me  that  I  have 

such  a  sister  as  you,  my  dear ,  who  have  been  so 

instrumental  in  keeping  me  in  the  right  way.  When 
I  consider  how  little  human  assistance  you  have  had, 
and  the  great  knowledge  to  which  you  have  attained 
on  the  subject  of  religion — especially  observing  the 
extreme  ignorance  of  the  most  wise  and  learned 
of  this  world,  I  think  this  is  in  itself  a  mark  of  the 
wonderful  influence  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  mind  of 
well-disposed  persons.  .  .  .  How  I  rejoice  to  find  that 
we  disagreed  only  about  words !  I  did  not  doubt,  as 
you  suppose,  at  all  about  that  joy  which  true  believers 
feel.  .  .  .  Oh,  I  do  indeed  feel  this  state  of  mind  at 
times,  but  at  other  times  I  feel  quite  troubled  at  find- 
ing myself  so  cold  and  hard-hearted.  That  reluctance 
to  prayer,  that  unwillingness  to  come  unto  God,  who 
is  the  fountain  of  all  good,  when  reason  and  experi- 
ence tells  us  that  with  Him  only  true  pleasure  is  to  be 
found,  seem  to  be  owing  to  Satanic  influence.  Though 
I  think  my  employment  in  life  gives  me  peculiar 
advantages  in  some  respects  with  regard  to  religious 
knowledge,  yet  with  regard  to  having  a  practical  sense 
of  things  on  the  mind,  it  is  by  far  the  worst  of  any. 
For  the  labourer  as  he  drives  on  his  plough,  and  the 


24  HENRY   MARTYN. 

weaver  as  he  works  at  his  loom,  may  have  his  thoughts 
entirely  disengaged  from  his  work,  and  may  think 
with  advantage  upon  any  religious  subject.  But  the 
nature  of  my  studies  requires  such  a  deep  abstraction 
of  the  mind  from  all  other  things,  as  to  render  it  com- 
pletely incapable  of  anything  else,  and  that  during 
many  hours  of  the  day.  With  regard  to  the  dealings 
of  the  Almighty  with  me,  you  have  heard  in  general 
the  chief  of  my  account ;  as  I  am  brought  to  a  sense 
of  things  gradually,  there  is  nothing  peculiarly  striking 
in  it  to  particularise. 

"After  the  death  of  our  father,  you  know,  I  was 
extremely  low-spirited,  and,  like  most  other  people, 
began  to  consider  very  seriously,  without  any  particu- 
lar determination,  that  invisible  world  to  which  he 
was  gone,  and  to  which  I  must  one  day  go.  Yet  I  still 
read  the  Bible  unenlightened,  and  said  a  prayer  or  two 
rather  through  terror  of  a  superior  power  than  from 
any  other  cause.  Soon,  however,  I  began  to  attend 
more  diligently  to  the  words  of  our  Saviour  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  to  devour  them  with  delight 
— when  the  offers  of  mercy  and  forgiveness  were 
made  so  freely,  I  supplicated  to  be  made  partaker  of 
the  covenant  of  grace  with  eagerness  and  hope,  and 
thanks  be  to  the  ever  blessed  Trinity  for  not  leaving 
me  without  comfort. 

"  Through  the  whole,  however,  even  when  the  light 
of  Divine  truth  was  beginning  to  dawn  on  my  mind, 
I  was  not  under  that  great  terror  of  future  punishment 
which  I  now  sec  plainly  I  had  every  reason  to  feel. 
I  now  look  back  upon  that  course  of  wickedness, 
which  like  a  gulf  of  destruction  yawned  to  swallow 
me  up,  with  a  trembling  delight,  mixed  with  shame  at 
having  lived  so  long  in  ignorance,  error,  and  blindness." 


TIIH   i;OV    AND    '111  10   STUOKNT.  25 

These  words  evidence  thus  early  in  In's  career  that 
intense  self-dissatisfaction  and  humility  which  so 
strongly  characterise  the  whole  of  Henry  Martyn's 
brief  but  eventful  career.  He  was  perpetually  con- 
demning himself. 

The  heart  of  Martyn  at  this  stage  was  actuated  by 
two  strong  impulses,  which  unfortunately  he  could 
not  recognise  except  in  antagonism — these  were  an 
earnest  ambition  to  succeed  in  his  academic  studies, 
and  an  equally  strong  desire  "  to  flee  from  the  wrath 
to  come."  The  time  was  drawing  near  for  that  great 
examination  which  should,  in  the  opinion  of  his  friends 
at  college,  place  him  very  high  in  the  list  of  honours ; 
and  in  order  to  acquit  himself  well,  the  young  student 
of  St.  John's  worked  incessantly  at  his  books.  He 
seems  to  have  conquered  the  want  of  application 
which  was  the  defect  of  his  school-days,  and  although 
on  his  entry  into  College  he  began  his  mathematics  by 
committing  to  memory  the  problems  of  Euclid,  he 
had  evidently  by  this  time  become  one  of  the-  most 
systematic  hard  readers  in  the  University.  And  yet 
with  all  this  industry  there  is  the  painful  struggle 
going  on  within,  to  him  a  very  lusting  of  the  flesh 
against  the  Spirit,  a  battle  of  motives  for  ever  occa- 
sioned by  a  suspicion  of  his  mental  aims  being  sub- 
versive of  the  prosperity  of  his  awakened  soul.  He 
accurately  gauges  his  feelings  in  a  retrospective  note 
relating  to  this  period. 

"  I  can  only  account,"  he  writes,  "  for  my  being 
stationary  so  long,  by  the  intcnscness  with  which 
I  pursued  my  studies,  in  which  I  was  so  absorbed, 
that  the  time  I  gave  to  them  seemed  not  to  be  a 
portion  of  my  existence.  That  in  which  I  now  see 
I  was  lamentably  deficient  was  a  humble  and  contrite 


26  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Spirit,  through  which  I  should  have  perceived  more 
clearly  the  excellency  of  Christ.  The  eagerness,  too, 
with  which  I  looked  forward  to  my  approaching 
examination  for  degrees,  too  clearly  betrayed  a  heart 
not  dead  to  the  world." 

When  the  time  came  for  the  students  to  enter  the 

Senate    House,   amongst  the  crowd   of  young  men, 

Martyn  was  alone  possibly  in  the  assurance,  not  of 

certain   victory,  but   of  self-abasement.     A   text   of 

Scripture,   upon   which    he   had    some    time    before 

listened  to  a  stirring  discourse,  was  prominently  in 

his  mind:  "  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thyself — 

seek  them  not ; "  and  although  he  had  not  attained  to 

a   very   high   maturity    in    Christian    experience,   he 

knew  enough  to  steady  himself  by  faith  upon  God  in 

r^        this  critical  hour.     When  the  result  was  made  known, 

Henry  Martyn  became  the  centre  of  congratulating 

/riends,  for  he  had  attained  to  the  highest  honour  which 

s/  the  University  could  bestow,  that  of  senior  wrangler  of 

his  year.      At  such  a  moment,  especially  when  we 

consider  in  what  spirit  he  entered  the  contest,  we  can 

well   imagine   that   the   colour  of  conscious   honour 

would  flush  the  pale  cheek  of  the  successful  student. 

But  from   the   pressing  crowd    of  those  who  would 

rejoice  with    him,  he  seems  to  have   turned   almost 

;  sadly  away,  and  his  own  words  are,  "  I  obtained  my 

/  highest  wishes,  but  was  surprised  to  find  that  I  had 

/  grasped  a  shadow." 

Soon  afterwards  we  find  him  spending  a  vacation  in 
the  old  Cornish  home,  where  doubtless  the  empty 
chair  of  his  father  moved  his  sensitive  spirit  even 
more  than  the  happy  greetings  of  his  sisters  and 
old  friends.  For  his  native  town  and  country  he  had 
won  a  public  honour,  and  wherever  he  went,  the  praise 


THE    V.OV    AND    TllK   STUDKNT.  2y 

of  men,  of  which  he  had  always  a  perfect  horror,  met 
him  on  his  way.  I  lis  mind  was  still  ill  at  ease,  and  with 
all  his  religious  scruples,  the  peace  of  a  real  surrender 
had  not  filled  his  soul.  It  was  during  this  period  that 
his  sister  faithfully  and  affectionately  pressed  upon 
him  the  claims  of  Christ,  seeing  with  her  pious  inten- 
tion that  there  was  something  to  which  her  brother 
had  not  yet  attained,  and  which  he  must  reach  if  his 
great  talents  and  his  earnest  heart  were  to  be  wholly 
given  to  the  service  of  his  God.  Her  words  seem  to 
have  impressed  him  very  much,  and  after  his  return 
to  the  University,  it  became  his  wont  to  wander  forth 
alone,  shunning  companionship  and  seeking  only  to 
experience  a  real  communion  with  that  Divine  Spirit 
which  was  drawing  him  to  a  point  of  absolute  and 
happy  decision.  Light  was  breaking  into  the  heart  of 
the  young  graduate.  "  God  was  pleased  to  bless  the 
solitude  and  retirement  I  enjoyed  this  summer,"  he 
writes,  "to  my  improvement,  and  not  till  then  had 
I  ever  experienced  any  real  pleasure  in  religion.  I 
was  more  convinced  of  sin  than  ever,  more  earnest  in 
fleeing  to  Jesus  for  refuge,  and  more  desirous  of  the 
renewal  of  my  nature." 

But  as  Evangelist  appeared  in  the  way  of  Christian 
to  point  to  the  wicket  gate  of  salvation,j  so  a  faithful 
and  fatherly  guide  stood  in  the  path  of  Henry  Martyn 
in  the  person  of  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon.  It  is  quite 
possible  that  the  text  which  rested  in  hts^ieart  as  he 
went  up  for  the  examination  for  degrees,  had  been 
heard  from  Mr.  Simeon's  lip.s,  for  Martyn  had  already 
for  some  time  past  been  a  regular  attendant  upon 
his  evangelical  ministry.  Soon  he  made  himself 
personally  known  to  this  devout  minister  of  God, 
and  the  whole  tenour  of  his  after  life  was  strikingly 


28  HENRY  MARTYN. 

affected  by  this  providential  association.  The  imme- 
diate results  were  that  Martyn  became  a  Christian,  "  a 
vessel  meet  for  the  Master's  use,"  he  entered  the 
companionship  of  a  number  of  earnest  and  devoted 
young  men,  and  was  led  to  consecrate  himself  entirely 
to  God's  service  instead  of  following  his  original 
intention  of  being  a  lawyer,  which  profession,  he 
humbly  remarks,  he  had  set  his  mind  upon,  "  chiefly 
because  he  could  not  consent  to  be  poor  for  Christ's 
sake." 

In  the  midst  of  his  new-found  joy  and  the  zeal 
which  was  already  prompting  the  heart  of  Henry 
Martyn  to  attempt  great  things  in  Christ's  name,  he 
did  not  forget  his  sister,  and  a  short  extract  from  his 
letter  to  her,  dated  in  September,  1801,  shall  close  this 
chapter : — 
I  "  That  you  may  be  enabled  to  do  the  will  of  your 
Heavenly  Father  shall  be,  you  may  be  assured,  my 
constant  prayer  at  the  throne  of  grace,  and  this  as  well 
from  the  desire  of  promoting  the  edification  of  Christ's 
body  upon  earth,  as  from  motives  of  private  gratitude. 
You  have  been  the  instrument  in  the  hands  of  Provi- 
dence of  bringing  me  to  a  serious  sense  of  things  ;  for, 
at  the  time  of  my  father's  death,  I  was  using  such 
methods  of  alleviating  my  sorrow  as  I  almost  shudder 
to  recollect.  But  blessed  be  God  I  have  now  experi- 
enced that  *  Christ  is  the  power  of  God,  and  the 
wisdom  of  God.'  What  a  blessing  is  the  Gospel ! 
No  heart  can  conceive  its  excellency  but  that  which 
has  been  renewed  by  Divine  grace." 


isiiii! 


THE  OLD   EAST  INDIA   HOUSE. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  CHOICE   MADE. 

The  love  of  Christ  doth  me  constrain 
^  To  seek  the  wandering  souls  of  men, 

-x"  With  cries,  entreaties,  tears,  to  save, 

To  snatch  them  from  the  gaping  grave. 

John  Wesiry. 

THE  flame  of  one  brave  life  lights  the  lamp  in 
many  other  hearts.  It  would  not  be  difficult 
to  trace  the  grand  decision  which  directed  the 
footstep  of  some  true  man  into  a  career  of 
enlarged  and  honourable  service  for  Christ,  to  a  word 
spoken  or  read,  which  revealed  in  the  example  of 
another  what  glorious  possibilities  of  faith  lie  within 
reach.     It  is  not  so  much  sermons  as  facts,  not  pre-   /  '^ 

cepts  but  lives  which  mightily  move  men.     Thus  he  '- " 

who  fights  a  good  fight  in  God's  name,  not  only  wins 

a  victory  over  His  enemies,  but  animates  with  heroic 

energy  his  comrades  under  the  banner  of  the  Cross. 

This    was     true    of    Mart)  n.   ,    When     Jonathan 

29 


i^< 


HENRY   MARTYN. 


Edwards  wrote  his  Memoir  of  David  Brainerd,  he 
little  thought  the  story  of  the  apostle  to  the  Indians 
would  fall  into  the  hands  of  one  who,  kindled  thereby, 
would  one  day  become  an  equally  famous  and  honoured 
missionary  in  a  far  field.  The  decision  of  Henry 
Martyn  to  offer  himself  for  foreign  service  was  largely 
due  to  his  perusal  of  that  simple  but  inspiring  narrative. 

He  had  been  spending  his  vacation  in  a  walking 
tour  among  the  Welsh  mountains,  renewing  his 
strength  and  tone  after  much  laborious  study.  His 
diary  shows  us  that  in  these  excursions  his  mind  was 
full  of  serious  thoughts.  Passing  down  the  Mersey  in  a 
small  boat,  amid  rather  stormy  and  perilous  weather, 
he  makes  the  following  reflections  on  his  position  : — 

"  I  think  there  was  some  danger,  but  the  composure 
I  felt  did  not  arise,  I  fear,  so  much  from  a  sense  of 
my  acceptance  with  God,  as  from  thinking  the  danger 
not  to  be  great.  Still,  I  had  sufficiently  near  views 
of  death  to  be  uneasy  on  considering  how  slothful 
I  had  been  in  doing  the  Lord's  work,  and  what  little 
meetness  I  possessed  for  the  kingdom  of  glory.  Lo, 
arise  then,  O  my  soul,  to  be  always  ready  for  the 
coming  of  the  Lord  ;  that  no  disquieting  fear  may 
arise  to  perplex  thee  in  that  awful  hour." 
;'  He  spent  much  time  in  meditation,  and  was  con- 
stantly reading  his  Bible,  from  which  occupation  he 
grew  stronger  every  day  in  spirit,  and  more  thankful 
for  the  providence  of  God  in  his  position  and  pros- 
pects. Full  of  the  old  self-condemnation,  this  fragment 
of  his  inner  thoughts  at  that  time  reveals,  however,  a 
not  unfettered  exercise  of  the  privileges  of  God's  grace. 
Everything  he  sees,  whether  it  be  a  mountain  pass 
or  a  group  of  people,  seems  to  prompt  an  unfavour- 
able comparison  as  regards  his  own  heart.     He  tells 


THE   CHOICE   MADE. 


31 


US  of  an  incident  near  the  bridc^c  of  Abcrt^lasHn.     "  I 
met  a   poor  Welsh  pedlar,"  he  writes  in  his  private 


BRIDGE   OF    ABERGLASLIN. 


diary  ;  "  with  a  bundle  of  hats  upon  his  back,  who,  on 
my  enquiring  the  distance  to  Pcny-Bwlch,  told  me  he 
was  going  thither.     We  went  by  the  old  road,  which 


32  HENRY   MARTYN. 

is  two  miles  nearer.  It  passes  over  the  most  dreary 
uncultivated  hills  I  ever  saw,  where  there  is  scarcely 
any  mark  of  human  industry.  The  road  in  most 
places  is  overgrown  with  grass.  The  poor  man  had 
walked  from  Carnarvon  that  day  with  an  enormous 
bundle,  and  pointed,  with  a  sorrowful  look,  to  his  head, 
and,  indeed,  he  did  look  very  ill  ;  he  was,  however, 
very  cheerful  :  what  a  difference  between  this  man's 
temper  and  my  own  !  The  difference  was  humbling 
to  myself— when  shall  I  learn  '  in  whatsoever  state 
I  am  therewith  to  be  content '  ? 

"  My  walk  for  ten  miles  was  similar  to  that  of  the 
preceding  evening,  only  still  more  beautiful,  for  the 
Dovey  widened  continually,  and  the  opposite  hills 
were  covered  with  wood  ;  at  last  the  river  fell  into 
the  sea,  and  the  view  was  then  fine  indeed,  the 
weather  was  serene,  and  the  sea  unruffled.  I  felt  little 
fatigue,  and  my  thoughts  were  turned  towards  God. 
But  if  I  cannot  be  thankful  to  Him  and  sensible  of 
His  presence  in  seasons  of  fatigue  as  well  as  in  periods 
of  enjoyment,  how  can  I  distinguish  the  working  of 
the  Spirit  from  the  ebullitions  of  animal  joy  ?  " 

When  Henry  Martyn  returned  to  Cambridge  much 
refreshed  by  his  walks  across  the  breezy  Welsh  hills, 
he  had  also  made  some  notable  advances  in  his 
Christian  experience.  He  was  possessed  with  the 
grand  idea  of  giving  himself  entirely  to  the  work  of 
God,  and  had  already  been  lifted  into  a  spiritual  view 
of  things  which  gave  the  praise  of  man  and  the 
advantages  of  social  station  their  due  proportions  when 
compared  with  the  claims  of  a  Divine  call.  His 
solitary  habit,  unusual  in  one  of  his  years,  had  given 
him  abundant  opportunity  to  consider  his  future 
career,  and,  as  his  Bible  was  ever  his  constant  com- 


TIIH   CHOICE   MADE.  33 

panlon,  it  became  In  this  crisis  of  decision  a  real 
"lamp  unto  his  feet."  It  must  not  be  forgotten  how 
great  was  the  influence  for  good  which  his  sister 
wielded  over  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  future 
missionary.  Deprived  by  the  death  of  his  mother, 
during  his  infancy,  of  that  gentle  and  abiding  direc- 
tion which  a  boy  never  forgets  and  can  never  over- 
value, Henry  Martyn  looked  to  his  elder  sister  from 
early  life  for  such  guidance.  When  first  at  College  and 
standing  in  perilous  places,  it  will  be  remembered  how 
her  letters  constantly  pressed  upon  him  the  importance 
of  the  claims  of  God,  and  when  he  returned  home  with 
academic  honours  thick  upon  him  it  was  this  sister 
who  scarcely  congratulated  him  in  the  deep  solicitude 
she  felt  in  looking  for  some  sign  of  a  regenerate  heart 
set  upon  the  prize  of  a  high  calling  in  Christ  Jesus. 
With  this  sister  then,  at  the  period  of  his  life  now 
passing  under  review,  he  had  much  pleasant  and 
profitable  converse,  and  it  is  not  difficult  to  conjecture 
how,  in  talking  over  his  future,  her  advice  and  encour- 
agement would  influence  the  ultimate  decision  of  the 
young  graduate. 

We  are  told,  however,  by  his  biographer  and  friend 
that  Henry  Martyn's  immediate  desire  for  the  office 
and  work  of  a  missionary  was  prompted  by  a  sermon,  in 
which  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  pleading  for  missions, 
drew  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  India  there  was  only 
one  witness  for  Christ,  Dr.  Carey.     This  telling  fact^ 
seems  to  have  given  direction  to  the  longings  of  the\ 
heart  of  Henry  Martyn  to  proclaim  the  Gospel  to  the  \ 
heathen.     But,  perhaps,  in  a  greater  degree,  was  his/ 
ardour  fired  by  the  study  at  this  time  of  the  life  of 
David    Brainerd,   to   which    previous   reference    has 
been   made.      The  attraction  which  he  felt   for  this 

C 


34  HENRY    MARTYN. 

noble  example  may  be  well  understood.  There  was 
a  sympathetic  bond  between  him  and  the  young 
American,  who,  at  almost  his  own  age,  turned  his 
back  upon  the  pleasures  of  home  and  the  comforts  of 
civilised  society,  to  enter  alone,  like  a  true  Knight  of 
the  Cross,  the  dark  and  tangled  forest  of  Indian 
superstition  and  sin.  Then  the  ascetic  self-sacrifice 
of  the  man,  his  disregard  of  even  the  commonest 
requirements  of  life,  and  the  burning  zeal  which  thus 
early  marked  him  for  martyrdom,  roused  the  ambition 
of  Henry  Martyn.  Perhaps,  most  of  all,  it  was  that  in 
Brainerd's  spiritual  experience  he  saw  a  strange  like- 
ness to  his  own.  He  was  an  intensely  introspective 
man  who  loved  that  loneliness  which  possibly,  in  his 
case  too,  was  not  the  best  thing  for  him.  These  are 
the  words  which,  in  the  journal  of  David  Brainerd, 
caught  the  eye  and  filled  the  heart  of  the  young 
Cambridge  student : — 

"About  six  at  night  I  lost  my  way  in  the  wilder- 
ness and  wandered  over  rocks  and  mountains,  down 
hideous  steeps,  through  swamps  and  most  dreadful 
and  most  dangerous  places.  ...  I  have  frequently 
been  thus  exposed,  and  sometimes  lain  out  the  whole 
night,  but  God  has  hitherto  preserved  me  and  blessed 
be  His  name  !  such  fatigues  and  hardships  as  these 
serve  to  wean  me  from  the  earth,  and  I  trust  will  make 
heaven  the  sweeter.  ...  I  have  no  comfort  of  any 
kind  but  what  I  have  in  God.  I  live  in  the  most 
lonesome  wilderness,  and  have  but  one  person  to 
converse  with  that  can  speak  English,  an  Indian. 
I  have  no  fellow-Christian  to  whom  I  can  unbosom 
myself  I  live  poorly  with  regard  to  the  comforts  of 
this  life,  most  of  my  diet  consists  of  boiled  corn.  .  .  . 
I  lodge  on  a  bundle  of  straw,  my  labour  is  hard  and 


THE   CHOICE   MADE.  35 

extremely  difficult,  and  I  have  little  appearance  of 
success  to  comfort  me.  The  Indians  have  no  land  to 
live  on  but  what  the  Dutch  people  lay  claim  to,  and 
threaten  to  drive  them  off  from  ;  they  have  no  regard 
for  the  souls  of  the  poor  savages,  and  from  what 
I  learn  they  hate  me  because  I  came  to  preach  to 
them.  /)///  that  ivhich  makes  all  my  difficulties 
grievous  to  be  borne  is  tJiat  God  hides  His  face  from 
me'' 

Doubtless  as  Henry  Martyn  read  these  words  his 
eye  kindled  with  a  holy  ambition  to  follow  one — 

"  Who  climbed  the  steep  ascent  to  heaven 
Mid  sorrow,  toil  and  pain," 

and  clasping  his  hands  he  would  there  and  then  vow 
that  if  God  would  count  him  worthy  of  such  a  mission 
he  would  count  nothing  loss  to  attain  so  grand  a 
destiny  as  to  follow  in  his  train.  He  could,  too,  already 
claim  spiritual  fellowship  with  a  man  who  had  his 
darkening  soul-shadows,  and  whose  crushing  sense  of 
unworthiness  threw  into  relief  the  glory  of  the  grace 
of  God.  And  then  the  fact  that  David  Brainerd  at 
the  age  of  only  thirty- two  years  ended  his  full  and 
apostolic  life,  invested  him  wnth  heroic  interest  for  one 
who  knew  that  for  him  life  must  be  a  brief  portion, 
and  who  longed  passionately  to  expend  those  few 
allotted  years  to  the  highest  ends. 

These  thoughts  are  burning  in  his  mind  when  he 
writes  to  the  sister,  already  alluded  to  in  a  previous 
page,  to  whom  he  has  evidently  already  committed 
the  secret  of  his  new  and  ardent  resolve  : — 

"  I  received  your  letter  yesterday,  and  thank  God 
for  the  concern  you  manifest  for  my  spiritual  welfare. 
O  that  we  may  love  each  other  more  and  more  in  tlie 


36  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Lord !  The  passages  you  bring  from  the  Word  of 
God  were  appropriate  to  my  case,  particularly  those 
from  the  first  Epistle  of  St.  Peter,  and  from  that  to 
the  Ephesians  ;  though  I  do  not  seem  to  have  given 
you.  a  right  view  of  my  state.  The  dejection  I  some- 
times labour  under  seems  not  to  arise  from  doubts  of 
my  acceptance  with  God,  though  it  tends  to  pro- 
duce them  ;  nor  from  desponding  views  of  my  own 
backwardness  in  the  Divine  life,  for  I  am  more  prone 
to  self-dependence  and  conceit ;  but  from  the  prospect 
of  the  difficulties  I  have  to  encounter  in  the  whole  of  my 
future  life.  The  thought  that  I  must  be  unceasingly 
employed  in  the  same  kind  of  work,  amongst  poor, 
ignorant  people,  is  what  my  proud  spirit  revolts  at. 
To  be  obliged  to  submit  to  a  thousand  uncomfortable 
things  that  must  happen  to  me,  whether  as  a  minister 
or  a  missionary,  is  what  the  flesh  cannot  endure.  At 
these  times  I  feel  neither  love  to  God  nor  love  to 
man,  and  in  proportion  as  these  graces  of  the  Spirit 
languish,  my  besetting  sins — pride  and  discontent 
and  unwillingness  for  every  duty — make  me  miser- 
able. 

"  You  will  best  enter  into  my  views  by  considering 
those  texts  which  seem  to  recall  me  to  a  right  aspect 
of  things.  I  have  not  that  coldness  in  prayer  you 
would  expect,  but  generally  find  myself  strengthened 
in  faith  and  humility  and  love  after  it,  but  the 
impression  is  so  short.  I  am  at  this  time  enabled  to 
give  myself,  body,  soul,  and  spirit  to  God,  and  per- 
ceive it  to  be  my  most  reasonable  service.  How  it 
may  be  when  the  trial  comes  I  know  not,  yet  I  will 
trust  and  be  not  afraid.  In  order  to  do  His  will 
cheerfully,  I  want  love  for  the  souls  of  men  ;  to  stiffer 
it,  I  want  humility  ;  let  these  be  the  subjects  of  your 


THE   CHOICE   MADE.  37 

supplications  for  mc.  I  am  thankful  to  God  that  you 
are  so  free  from  anxiety  and  care.  We  cannot  but 
with  praise  acknowledge  His  goodness.  What  does 
it  signify  whether  we  be  rich  or  poor  if  we  are  the 
sons  of  God?  How  unconscious  are  they  of  their 
real  greatness,  and  they  will  be  so  until  they  find 
themselves  in  glory !  When  we  contemplate  our  ever- 
lasting inheritance,  it  seems  too  good  to  be  true,  yet 
it  is  no  more  than  is  due  to  the  kindred  of  '  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh  ' !  " 

This  extract  will  prepare  the  student  of  Henry 
Martyn's  life  for  that  fluctuation  of  light  and  shadow 
peace,  perplexity,  and  self-abasement,  which  mark  hi« 
spiritual  experience  all  through.  But,  with  all  his 
sense  of  unfitness,  he  could  not  resist  the  evident  call 
of  God  to  the  work,  and  therefore  offered  himself  to 
the  Committee  of  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  then 
known  as  "The  Church  Missionary  Society  for  Africa 
aad  the  East."  As  the  sequel  proved,  it  was  not  to 
be  that,  when  Martyn  made  his  essay  as  a  missionary, 
he  should  be  sent  out  under  the  auspices  of  that 
excellent  and  useful  Society  which  is  still  among  us, 
foremost  in  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ. 

A  year  elapsed,  the  record  of  which  is  left  to  us 
in  a  journal  which  almost  painfully  lays  bare  the 
heart  of  the  writer.  He  has  been  reading  Butler's 
"  Analogy  "  with  evident  profit,  and  also  strengthens 
his  missionary  zeal  by  perusing  the  work  of  Dr. 
Vandcrkemp  in  China,  the  claims  of  that  country 
being  pressed  very  much  home  to  him.  He  was  an 
early  riser,  and  his  habit  seems  to  have  been  to  get 
into  the  lanes  and  fields  at  half-past  five,  preparing 
by  meditation  what  he  called  "  a  right  spirit  and  a 


38  HENRY   MARTYN. 

happy  frame  "  for  the  hours  of  the  day.  These  quiet 
times  in  the  fresh  morning  air  were  seasons  of  peace 
and  tranquiUity  to  his  mind,  and  when  after  his  walk 
he  entered  the  College  chapel,  he  could  not  find  words 
to  express  his  exaltation  of  soul.  He  loved  music, 
and  yet,  in  his  enjoyment  of  it,  was  the  same  haunting 
dread  of  its  engrossing  temptations.  "  At  chapel,"  he 
writes,  "the  sacred  melodies  wafted  my  soul  to 
heaven  ;  the  blessedness  of  heaven  appeared  so  sweet, 
that  the  very  possibility  of  losing  it  appeared  terrible, 
and  raised  a  little  disquiet  with  my  joy.  After  all, 
I  had  rather  live  in  a  humble  and  dependent  spirit, 
for  then,  perceiving  underneath  me  the  Everlasting 
Arms,  I  can  enjoy  my  security.  Amid  the  joyous 
affections  of  this  day,  I  quickly  forgot  my  own  worth- 
lessness  and  helplessness,  and  thus,  looking  off  from 
Jesus,  found  myself  standing  on  slippery  ground. 
But  oh  1  the  happiness  of  that  state  where  pride  shall 
never  intrude  to  make  one's  joys  an  occasion  of 
sorrow." 

At  this  time  a  young  man  came  to  the  University, 
upon  the  introduction  of  Southey,  the  Poet  Laureate, 
and  with  the  kindly  help  and  fatherly  welcome  of  the 
Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  and  entered  St.  John's  College. 
This  was  Henry  Kirke  White,  the  sweet  and  accom- 
plished poet  of  Nottingham,  whose  life  like  the  rolling 
dewdrop  on  the  leaf 

"  Sparkled,  was  exhaled,  and  rose  to  heaven." 

I  The  new  comer  and  Martyn  soon  became  fast 
friends ;  both  achieved  distinction  in  their  academic 
careers,  both  were  devoted  Christians,  and  both  were 
carried  off  early  by  the  same  insidious  disease.  The 
young  men  had  much  in  common,  therefore,  and  we 


/. 


THE   CHOICE    MADE.  39 

find  that  Martyn  exerted  himself  to  assist  in  every 
way  his  pale-faced  poet  friend  in  his  progress  at  the 
University.  The  latter,  however,  had  not  long  to  live, 
his  wasting  industry  hastened  the  inroads  of  con- 
sumption, and  soon  his  name  became  a  sweet  remem- 
brance, leaving  only  a  few  poems  of  undoubted  genius 
and  the  record  of  a  life  prematurely  cut  short,  but 
nobly  lived. 

The  autumn  of  the  year  1S03  brought  Henry  \ 
Martyn  the  solemn  and  impressive  service  of  ordina-  \ 
tion  as  deacon  in  the  Church  of  England.  This  took  \ 
place  at  Ely  Cathedral  on  the  22nd  of  October,  and  in  J 
due  time  he  commenced  his  sacred  labours  as  curate 
to  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  in  Holy  Trinity  Church, 
Cambridge,  having  also  the  oversight  of  the  parish  of 
Lohvorth,  a  village  near  the  University.  His  first 
sermon  there  was  upon  the  text  from  Job  xiv.  14, 
"  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ?  all  the  days  of 
my  appointed  time  will  I  wait,  till  my  change  come." 
From  these  words  the  young  minister  preached  with 
earnestness  and  solemnity,  as  of  a  man  to  whom  the 
responsibility  of  preaching  the  Gospel  to  perishing 
men  was  a  weighty  matter.  On  the  following  Sunday 
he  preached  there  again,  and  an  incident  is  recorded 
in  his  journal  which  made  a  marked  impression  on 
his  mind  at  the  time.  The  service  was  over,  and  he 
had  mounted  his  horse  to  return  to  Cambridge,  when 
an  aged  man  stepped  up  to  his  side  and  entered  into 
conversation  with  him.  With  deep  seriousness  his 
venerable  companion  exhorted  him  as  he  walked  by 
his  side,  "  warning  him  to  reflect  that  if  any  souls 
perished  through  his  negligence,  their  blood  would  be 
required  at  his  hands.  He  exhorted  him  to  show  his 
hearers  that  they  were  perishing  sinners,  to  be  much 


6 


40  HENRY   MARTYN. 

engaged  in  prayer ;  and  to  labour  after  an  entire 
departure  of  himself  to  Christ"  This  faithful  saying 
of  an  old  saint  was  not  lost  upon  the  young  divine, 
and  he  thankfully  set  himself  to  carry  out  such  good 
/advice.  Especially  did  he  recognise  his  need  of  the 
exhortation  to  get  away  from  self  to  Christ.  "  From 
what  he  said  on  the  last  head,"  Martyn  writes,  with 
humility  and  teachableness,  "  it  was  clear  that  I  had 
had  but  little  experience,  so  I  lifted  up  my  heart 
afterwards  to  the  Lord  that  I  might  be  fully  instructed 
in  righteousness." 

j  The  beginning  of  the  year  1804  brought  unexpected 
changes  in  the  position  of  Henry  Martyn,  inasmuch 
as  misfortune  befell  the  family  in  the  loss  of  the  slender 
but  sufficient  patrimony  which  had  accrued  to  the 
cKildren  on  the  death  of  their  father.  It  was  a  blow 
to  the  young  curate,  for  while  he  could  well  afford  to 
continue  his  own  position  with  the  pupils  who  were 
always  ready  to  have  the  advantage  of  his  services,  he 
felt  that  henceforth  his  sisters  would  be  dependent 
upon  him,  a  duty  which  he  felt  to  be  a  privilege,  but 
.which  must  interfere  materially  with  his  aspirations 
'  for  the  Mission  field.  So  much  did  this  affect  his 
spirits  that  he  began,  as  so  many  sensitive  souls  do 
ever,  to  question  whether  what  looked  like  an  insup- 
erable difficulty  was  not  sent  of  God  to  thwart  him  in 
running  where  he  was  not  sent.  The  crisis  was  a 
bitter  one,  and  feeling  quite  unable  to  settle  what  was 
his  duty  by  himself,  he  hurried  to  London  to  consult 
his  friends  as  to  the  best  course  for  him  to  adopt. 
They  seem  to  have  solved  the  difficulty  by  exerting 
themselves  to  get  him  a  chaplaincy  abroad,  which 
should,  at  the  same  time,  not  prevent  him  being  of 
service  to  his  sisters  at  home. 


THE   CHOICE   MADE.  4I 

lie  found  two  good  and  influential  friends  by 
introduction  from  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon  ;  these 
were  William  Wilberforcc  and  Charles  Grant,  both 
members  of  the  House  of  Commons.  They  were 
full  of  an  enthusiasm  for  humanity,  and  directly  the 
case  of  Martyn  was  brought  before  them,  they  readily 
responded  to  the  appeal  for  help.  Instantly,  the 
matter  was  brought  under  the  notice  of  that  pious 
coterie — Babington,  Stephen,  Henry  Thornton,  Lord 
Tcignmouth  and  Mr.  Venn  ;  and  Mr.  Grant,  who  was 
on  the  Board  of  the  East  India  Company,  felt  that  a 
field  for  such  a  man  as  Martyn  lay  among  the  natives 
of  the  East.  It  would  be  difficult  in  these  days,  when 
the  praise  of  Missions  is  in  all  lands,  and  doors  innum- 
erable are  being  opened  to  them,  to  understand  the 
difficulties,  especially  in  India,  which  were  placed  in 
the  way  of  missionaries.  It  must  not  be  forgotten 
how  Dr.  Judson  was  driven  by  official  distrust  from 
his  work  there,  and  it  was  openly  stated  that  the 
presence  of  Missions  would  imperil  the  safety  of  the 
Dependency.  But  the  Company  felt  that  a  chaplain 
to  the  troops  and  their  civil  servants  was  a  necessity, 
and  the  first  of  these  appointments  was  placed  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Grant  to  bestow  upon  Henry  Martyn. 
The  young  curate  was  duly  introduced  to  the  Honour- 
able Board,  and,  after  formal  appointment,  went  to 
dinner  at  Clapham  with  his  benefactors.  A  delay, 
however,  occurred,  as  he  could  not  be  fully  ordained 
in  priest's  orders  until  he  had  attained  the  age  of 
twenty-four,  but  in  due  time,  in  the  chapel  of  St.  James, 
he  was  admitted,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  London  to 
make  the  necessary  preparations  for  his  departure. 
While  in  the  Metropolis  his  mind  was  much  exercised 
with  the  danger  of  falling  into  the  flippancies  and 


42  HENRY   MARTYN. 

worldllness  which  pervaded  society.  He  shrank  from 
it  as  from  a  poisonous  adder.  The  significant  words 
written  in  his  journal  at  this  time, — "The  prospect 
of  this  world's  happiness  gave  me  rather  pain 
than  pleasure,  which  convinced  me  that  I  had  been 
running  away  from  the  world  rather  than  overcoming 
it,"  point,  however,  to  a  mistrust  of  this  morbid  aspect 
of  things.  In  fact  with  his  refined  taste  and  love  of 
the  beautiful,  he  had  learned  not  to  despise  nor  call 
common  or  unclean  the  triumphs  of  genius  and  art. 
In  one  of  his  reflections  he  says,  "  Since  I  have 
known  God  in  a  saving  manner,  painting,  poetry  and 
music,  have  had  charms  unknown  to  me  before. 
I  have  received  what  I  suppose  is  a  taste  for  them, 
for  religion  has  refined  my  mind  and  made  it 
susceptible  of  impressions  from  the  sublime  and 
the  beautiful.  O  how  religion  secures  this  height- 
ened enjoyment  of  those  pleasures  which  keep  so 
many  from  God,  by  their  becoming  a  source  of 
pride." 

This  is  a  refreshingly  sensible  and  happy  observa- 
tion, and  gives  us  a  flitting  glimpse  of  a  phase  of 
Martyn's  experience  which  is  unfortunately  rarely 
disclosed  by  him  in  the  precious  records  he  has  left 
of  his  spiritual  state  from  time  to  time. 

Although  many  places  associated  with  the  memory 
of  Henry  Martyn  have  disappeared,  as  for  instance 
the  old  East  India  House  in  Leadenhall  Street, 
there  is  still  remains  of  Stjohn's  Chapel,  Bedford  Row, 
which  saw  much  of  the  young  missionary  during  his 
stay  in  London.  The  pulpit  was  then  occupied  by 
the  Rev.  Richard  Cecil,  but  several  times  he  made 
way  for  Martyn  to  preach  there.  He  was  doing  his 
best  to  improve  his  powers  of  public  speaking,  attend- 


THE   CHOICE   MADE.  43 

inq^  lectures  upon  elocution,  and  these  opportunities 
of  pulpit  ministration  at  Bedford  Row  were  much 
appreciated.  Martyn  seems  to  have  had  no  compli- 
mentary idea  of  his  own  preaching  abilities.  In 
writing  just  at  this  time,  he  says,  "  Sermons  cannot 
be  good  niemorials,  because  once  read  they  are  done 
with,  especially  a  young  man's  sermons,  unless  they 
possess  a  peculiar  simplicity  and  spirituality,  which 
I  need  not  say  are  qualities  not  belonging  to  mine. 
I  hope,  however,  that  I  am  improving,  and  I  trust 
that  now  I  am  removed  from  the  contagion  of  aca- 
demic air,  I  am  in  the  way  of  acquiring  greater 
knowledge  of  men  and  of  my  own  heart,  I  shall 
exchange  my  jejune  scholastic  style  for  a  simple, 
spiritual  exhibition  of  profitable  truth.  Mr.  Cecil 
has  been  taking  a  great  deal  of  pains  with  me.  My 
insipid,  inanimate  manner  in  the  pulpit,  he  says,  is 
intolerable." 

Possibly  the  preaching  of  Henry  Martyn  was  never 
characterised  by  eloquence,  but  it  is  on  record  that 
he  always  spoke  with  solemn  earnestness  as  "  a  dying 
man  to  dying  men."  — 


fa. 

SX:- 


^^4^.^^ 


FALMOUTH. 


CHAPTER     III. 


OUTWARD   BOUND. 

/\  Mine  inmost  soul,  before  Thee  inly  brought, 

Thy  presence  owns,  ineffable  Divine, 
Chastised  each  rebel  self-encentred  thought 
My  will  adoreth  Thine. — A.  H.  Cloiigh. 

WHEN  the  summons  came  for  Henry  Martyn  to 
prepare  for  departure  from  England,  he  felt, 
as  might  be  expected,  how  many  and  tender 
were  the  ties  of  affection  which  held  him  to 
Cambridge.  Not  only  as  the  sphere  of  his  successful 
studies  and  the  circle  of  his  personal  friends,  it  had 
become  also  still  more  endeared  to  him  since  he  had 
parish  work  at  Lolworth.  Doubtless  the  brilliant 
prospects  which  beckoned  him  to  stay,  and  which,  to 
a  young  man  of  such  intellectual  powers,  could  not 
but  allure,  did  not  fail  to  exercise  their  influence  on 
his  mind  at  this  period.  But  the  temptation  came 
to  a  heart  fully  consecrated  to  duty,  and  fell  like 
snowflakes  from  a  shield.  He  sees  vividly  the  hand  of 
God  in  his  past,  and  has  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  the 
rightness  of  the  path  opening  before  him.  There 
44 


OUTWARD    BOUND.  45 

is   strong   faith   expressed   in   those   words  which   he 
inscribes  at  this  time  in  his  journal  : —  — ^  A'-^ 

"From    many   danj^erous    snares    hath    the    Lord  \ 
preserved   me  ;    in  spite  of  all    my  inward   rebellion, 
He  hath  carried  on   His  work  in  my  heart;    and,  in         ^ 
spite  of  all  my  unbelieving^  fears,  He  hath  given  me  a  J 

hope  full  of  immortality,  '  He  hath  set  my  feet  upon 
a  rock,  and  established  my  goings ;  and  hath  put  a  nev\  -«(  ^  -^ 
song  in  my  mouth,  even  praises  to  my  God/^It'is 
the  beginning  of  a  critical  year  to  me,  yet  I  feel 
little  apprehension.  The  same  grace  and  long- 
suffering,  the  same  wisdom  and  power,  that  have 
brought  me  so  far,  will  bring  me  on,  though  it  be 
through  fire  and  water,  to  a  goodly  heritage.  I  see 
no  business  in  life  but  the  work  of  Christ,  neither 
do  r  desire  any  employment  to  all  eternity  but  His 
service." 

The  secret  of  his  peace  and  steadiness  of  soul  was 
the  intensifying  conviction  that  God  had  really 
called  him  to  minister  for  Him  in  holy  things,  and 
especially  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  the  heathen.  His 
way  thither  was  being  wonderfully  cleared  by  a 
providential  hand.  His  sister,  about  whom  he  had 
experienced  some  concern,  was  happily  married, 
and  he  felt  that  as  far  as  his  responsibility  to  his 
family  was  concerned,  he  could  now  go  away  with  a 
quiet  mind.  He  writes  from  Cambridge  on  the  eve 
of  quitting  the  place  he  loved  so  well,  "  I  rejoice  to 
say  that  I  never  had  so  clear  a  conviction  of  my  call 
as  at  present,  as  far  as  respects  the  inward  impression. 
Never  did  I  see  so  much  of  the  excellency  and 
glory  and  sweetness  of  the  work,  nor  had  so  much  of 
the  favourable  testimony  of  my  own  conscience,  nor 
perceived  so  plainly  the  smile  of  God.      I  am  con- 


4^  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Strained  to  say,  '  What  am  I,  or  what  is  my  father's 
house,  that  I  should  be  made  willing,  and  what  am 
I  that  I  should  be  so  happy  and  honoured  ? ' " 

On  the  2nd  of  April,  1805,  he  preached,  in  Trinity 
Church,  his  farewell  sermon,  taking  a  text  which 
surely  preached  as  much  to  him  as  to  his  auditory : 
"For  Thou,  O  Lord  of  Hosts,  God  of  Israel,  hast 
revealed  to  Thy  servant,  saying,  I  will  build  thee 
an  house  :  therefore  hath  Thy  servant  found  in  his 
heart  to  pray  this  prayer  unto  Thee.  And  now, 
O  Lord  God,  Thou  art  that  God,  and  Thy  words  be 
true,  and  Thou  hast  promised  this  goodness  unto  Thy 
servant :  therefore  now  let  it  please  Thee  to  bless  the 
house  of  Thy  servant,  that  it  may  continue  for  ever 
before  Thee  :  for  Thou,  O  Lord  God,  hast  spoken  it : 
and  with  Thy  blessing  let  the  house  of  Thy  servant 
be  blessed  for  ever." 

A  profound  impression  was  made  upon  his  hearers 
by  these  parting  words ;  and  soon  afterwards  the 
young  preacher,  with  a  full  heart,  looked  for  the  last 
time  upon  the  spires  of  the  University,  and  felt  that 
he  was  now  loosening  for  ever  from  these  safe  moor- 
ings to  steer  his  prow  whithersoever  God  should  in 
wisdom  trace  his  future  way. 

While  in  London,  preparing  for.  his  departure  from 
England  and  studying  Hindustani  with  great  eager- 
ness, he  was  much  helped  by  the  ministry  and  personal 
advice  of  those  two  earnest  evangelical  preachers  of 
the  day,  Mr.  Cecil  and  Mr.  Newton.  Everything 
which  related  to  missionary  enterprise  had  become  of 
the  deepest  interest  to  him,  and  the  accounts  which 
from  time  to  time  reached  him  of  the  work  of  the 
Gospel  in  foreign  lands  increased  his  zeal  and  desire 
to  go.     One  day  Mr.  Cecil  showed  him  an  autograph 


OUTWARD    BOUND.  47 

letter  from  Schwartz,  which  caused  in  his  mind  a 
varied  sense  of  humiHation  and  rejoicing.  "The  life 
of  faith  in  Jesus  is  what  I  want,"  he  says  after  reading 
the  letter.  "  My  soul  might  almost  burst  with 
astonishment  at  its  own  wickedness  !  but  at  the  same 
time,  trusting  to  mercy,  rise  and  go,  and  try  to  make 
men  happy.  The  Lord  go  with  me !  Let  my  right 
hand  forget  her  cunning,  if  I  remember  not  Jerusalem 
above  my  chief  joy." 

But  human  nature  will  assert  itself,  and  he  tells  us 
with  what  emotion  he  saw  for  the  first  time  the  East 
Indiaman  which  was  to  carry  him  across  the  sea. 
"The  sudden  sight  of  water  and  the  ship  affected  me 
almost  to  tears.  My  emotions  were  mixed — partly  of  j 
joy  and  partly  of  trembling  apprehension  of  my  being  | 
now  so  soon  to  go  away."  Again  he  makes  this ' 
entry  in  his  journal,  under  date  June  15th,  1805: 
''  Shed  tears  to-night  at  the  thoughts  of  my  departure. 
I  thought  of  the  roaring  seas  which  would  soon  be 
rolling  between  me  and  all  that  is  dear  to  me  on 
earth."  All  this  is  very  natural  and  pathetic, 
displaying  the  tenderness  of  his  feelings,  a  glimpse  of 
heart-break,  of  which  at  the  time  his  pale  heroic  face 
showed  little  trace  to  the  world.  Martyn's  nature  was 
as  a  harp  of  a  thousand  sensitive  vibrations,  and  this 
fact,  abundantly  attested  in  his  journals  and  letters, 
manifests  how  strong  was  the  grip  of  self-repression 
which  would  never  allow  him  to  shrink  from  the 
path  of  duty,  cost  what  sacrifice  it  may.  It  must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  he  was  always  conscious  of  his 
extreme  physical  delicacy,  he  felt  instinctively  he 
had  not  many  years  to  live,  had  upon  him  the 
pressure  of  a  great  destiny,  and  was  straitened  in 
spirit  for  its  accomplishment,  and  thus  the  bright  and 


48  HENRY    MARTYN. 

ambitious  soul  seemed  to  grow  stronger  as  the  body 
again  and  again  failed. 

While  on  his  journey  from  London  to  Portsmouth, 
where  he  was  to  embark,  his  feelings  completely  over- 
powered him,  and  he  lost  consciousness  in  a  fit  of 
convulsions.  A  few  days  more  and  Henry  Martyn 
was  on  board  the  Union,  one  of  a  fleet  of  vessels 
bound  to  the  East  under  the  direction  of  Captain 
Byng.  As  the  ship  moved  off  he  waved  his  farewells 
to  many  kind  friends  on  shore,  and  felt  especial 
pleasure  in  the  possession  of  a  beautiful  silver 
compass  which  had  been  sent  him  by  Mr.  Simeon 
and  his  flock  at  Cambridge.  He  wrote  a  letter  of 
thanks  to  them,  in  which  he  begs  for  their  prayers. 
"  Remember  me  sometimes  at  your  social  meetings 
and  particularly  at  that  which  you  hold  on  the 
Sabbath  morning.  Pray  not  only  for  my  soul — that 
I  may  be  kept  faithful  unto  death — but  also  especially 
for  the  souls  of  the  poor  heathen.  Whether  I  live  or 
die,  let  Christ  be  magnified  by  the  ingathering  of 
multitudes  to  Himself  I  have  many  trials  awaiting 
me,  and  so  have  you,  but  that  covenant  of  grace  in 
which  we  are  interested  provides  for  the  weakest  and 
secures  our  everlasting  welfare." 

As  the  Union  passed  on  her  way  down  Channel, 
it  became  necessary  to  make  a  brief  stay  at  Falmouth, 
which  was  an  occasion  of  much  rejoicing  to  the  young 
missionary.  It  gave  him  an  opportunity  of  a  final 
meeting  with  one  whom  he  was  never  to  see  again  on 
earth,  but  who  was  destined  to  influence  his  remain- 
ing few  years.  This  lady  was  Miss  Lydia  Grenfell, 
for  whom  Henry  Martyn  had  the  strongest  attach- 
ment. It  is  not  often  that  the  courtship  of  a  notable 
individual  is  woven,  at  any  rate  before  our  eyes,  so 


OUTWARD    BOUND.  49 

inextricably  in  the  texture  of  a  great  career.  In  the 
present  case,  the  love  of  Henry  Martyn  for  this  lady, 
who  seems  to  have  been  most  estimable,  played 
the  part  which  might  have  been  expected  with  so 
ardent  and  yet  variable  a  temperament.  He  who  was 
constantly  bringing  the  innermost  feelings  of  his 
heart  under  judgment,  was  not  likely  to  fail  in 
questioning,  however  much  the  examination  har- 
rowed, how  far  even  the  dearest  human  affection 
ought  to  or  might  interfere  with  the  call  of 
duty.  In  a  letter  written  to  his  cousin  just  before 
leaving  Portsmouth,  while  indeed  the  fleet  was 
already  in  sight,  he  alludes  to  this  matter  in  a 
manner  which  will  best  throw  light  on  his  mind  and 
action. 

"  Lieutenant  Wynter  called  on  me  last  Saturday, 
and  last  night  drank  tea  with  me.  I  cannot  but 
admire  his  great  seriousness.  He  is  just  the  sort  of 
person  of  a  sober,  thoughtful  cast  that  I  love  to 
associate  with.  He  mentioned — Lydia,  I  do  not 
know  why,  but  he  could  not  tell  me  half  enough 
about  her  while  she  was  at  Plymouth  to  satisfy  my 
curiosity.  Whitsun  week  was  a  time  of  the  utmost 
distress  to  me  (on  her  account).  On  the  Monday  at 
the  Eclectic,  Mr.  Cecil,  speaking  of  celibacy,  said  I 
was  acting  like  a  madman  in  going  out  without  a 
wife,  ^o  thought  all  the  other  ten  or  eleven 
ministers  present,  and  Mr.  Poster  among  the  rest, 
who  is  unmarried.  This  opinion  coming  deliberately 
from  so  many  experienced  ministers,  threw  me  into 
great  perplexity,  which  increased  as  my  affections 
began  to  be  set  more  afloat,  for  then  I  was  less  able 
than  before  to  discover  the  path  of  duty.  At  last 
I  wrote  to  Simeon  stating  to  him  the  strongest  argu- 

D 


5o  HENRY   MARTY N. 

ments  I  heard  in  favour  of  marriage  in  my  case. 
His  answer  decided  my  mind.  He  put  it  in  this 
way.  Is  it  necessary  ?  To  this  I  could  answer  no. 
Then  is  it  expedient  ?  He  here  produced  so  many 
weighty  reasons  against  its  expediency  that  I  was 
soon  satisfied  in  my  mind.  My  turbulent  will,  how- 
ever, was  not  so  easily  satisfied.  I  was  again  obliged 
to  undergo  the  severest  pain  in  making  that  sacrifice 
which  had  cost  me  so  dear  before.  Better  had  it  been 
if  those  wounds  had  never  been  torn  open.  But  now 
again,  through  the  mercy  of  God,  I  am  once  more  at 
peace.  What  cannot  His  power  effect  ?  The  present 
wish  of  my  heart  is  that  ...  I  may  henceforth 
have  no  one  thing  upon  earth  for  which  I  would  wish 
to  stay  another  hour,  except  it  be  to  serve  the  Lord, 
my  Saviour,  in  the  work  of  the  ministry." 

Shortly  after  writing  this  he  was  at  Falmouth, 
and  took  the  opportunity  of  spending  a  few  golden 
hours  with  her  who,  notwithstanding  his  heroic  con- 
victions of  duty,  still  held  his  heart  in  thrall.  But 
this  happy  season  was  abruptly  ended.  "  So  delusive," 
says  he  characteristically,  "  are  dreams  of  pleasure  ! 
At  nine  in  the  morning  I  was  sitting  at  ease  with  the 
person  dearest  to  me  upon  earth,  intending  to  go  out 
with  her  afterwards  to  see  different  views,  to  visit 
some  persons  with  her,  and  preach  on  the  morrow  ; 
four  hours  only  elapsed  and  I  was  under  sail  from 
England."  The  fact  was,  an  express  message  came 
to  say  that  the  ships  were  weighing  anchor,  and  he 
with  the  greatest  haste  only  just  reached  the  vessel 
in  time,  she  having  been  providentially  stopped  by 
some  accident. 

Miss  Grenfell  made  the  following  note  in  her 
private  journal  that  evening  : — 


OUTWARD    HOUND.  5  I 

"I  was  surprised  this  morning  by  a  visit  from 
II.  M.,  and  have  passed  the  day  chiefly  with 
him.  The  distance  he  is  going  and  the  errand  he  is 
going  on,  rendered  his  society  particularly  interesting. 
I  felt  as  if  bidding  a  final  adieu  to  him  in  this  world, 
and  all  he  said  was  as  the  words  of  one  on  the  bor- 
ders of  eternity.  May  I  improve  the  opportunity 
I  have  enjoyed  of  Christian  converse,  and  may  the 
Lord  moderate  the  sorrow  I  feel  at  parting  with  so 
valuable  and  excellent  a  friend.  Some  pains  have 
attended  it,  known  only  to  God  and  myself.  Thou 
God  that  knowest  them  canst  alone  give  comfort ! 
.  .  .  O  may  we  each  pursue  in  different  paths,  and 
meet  at  last  around  our  Father's  throne.  May  we 
often  meet  now  in  spirit,  praying  and  obtaining  bless- 
ings for  each  other.  Now,  my  soul,  return  to  God, 
the  Author  of  them." 

From  the  ship  Henry  Martyn  wrote  a  few  hurried 
lines  of  farewell,  and  told  how  he  would  treasure  a 
h\-mn  which  she  had  written  out  for  him  :  "  The  Lord 
of  the  harvest  who  is  sending  forth  me,  who  am,  most 
trul}',  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints,  will  reward  you 
for  being  willing  to  help  forward  even  the  meanest  of 
His  servants.  The  love  which  you  bear  to  the  cause 
of  Christ,  as  well  as  motives  of  private  friendship, 
will,  I  trust,  induce  you  to  commend  me  to  God  and 
to  the  Word  of  His  grace,  at  those  sacred  moments 
when  you  approach  the  throne  of  our  covenant  God." 

Thus  parted  these  two  pious  hearts,  he  to  bear 
away  the  tenderest  memory  on  his  outward  way, 
she  with  devotion  to  pray  for  richest  blessings  to 
descend  upon  him.  He  watched  with  lingering  gaze 
the  receding  land,  and,  as  the  vessel  passed  along  the 
coast  of  Cornwall,  the    church  of  St.  Hilary  could 


52  HENRY   MARTYN. 

be  seen,  through  his  glass,  peeping  through  the  trees. 
His  feelings  quite  overcame  him,  and,  bursting  into 
tears,  he  turned  from  the  last  glimpse  of  that  dear 
land  which  should  know  his  footstep  no  more. 

When  he  arrived  at  Cork  he  was  wretched,  both 
physically  and  mentally,  and  made  notes  in  his  jour- 
nals and  letters  descriptive  of  the  Satanic  buffetings 
to  which  he  was  subject.  But  he  found  relief  from 
these  distresses  by  urgent  prayer  and  increased 
energy  in  preaching  the  Gospel.  On  the  deck  of  the 
ship  he  solemnly  proclaimed  the  importance  of  eternal 
things,  and,  as  the  captain  was  not  agreeable  to  these 
ministrations,  he  spent  much  time  between  decks 
amongst  the  soldiers  and  their  families  and  others 
going  out  to  the  Cape.  Sometimes  he  read  some 
book  to  them,  then  he  would  engage  in  prayer,  and 
earnestly  seek  to  impress  them  with  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel.  He  did  not  meet  with  much  encouragement, 
however.  Occasionally  a  few  might  be  seen  looking 
fixedly  into  his  face  :  women  with  their  children  in 
deep  attention  one  moment,  the  next  busy  with  their 
duties  and  going  hither  and  thither,  men  on  the  upper 
deck  lolling  over  the  hand-rail  to  listen,  the  officers 
and  captain  in  the  cabin  filling  the  air  with  their 
boisterous  mirth  over  the  bottle,  dozens  of  men  who 
had  come  off  the  night  watch  stretched  along  the 
decks  in  sound  sleep — such  was  his  congregation  on 
shipboard.  He  was  grieved,  shocked,  and  a  little 
disappointed.  But,  like  his  Divine  Master,  it  was 
needful  that  he  should  be  made  perfect  in  suffering, 
and  he  makes  only  the  consolatory  remark,  "  But  this 
prepares  me  for  preaching  among  the  heedless  Gen- 
tiles." 

i  After  a  severe  storm,  they  reached  Funchal,  where 


MARTYN    rREAClllNG    TO   THE    SHlp's    COMPANY    ON    THE    \  OYAGE 
TO    INDIA. 

_„  53 


OUTWARD    DOUND.  55 

he  seems  to  have  been  struck  by  the  beauty  of  the' 
scenery,  and  not  less  dispirited  at  the  sii^dit  of  the 
Romish  churches  and  the  priests,  "  Is  it  possible," ' 
says  he,  "  that  this  should  be  a  'Christian  Church ! 
There  was  no  appearance  of  attention  excepting  in 
one  poor  African  woman,  who  was  crossing  herself 
repeatedly  with  an  expression  of  utmost  contrition  in 
her  countenance.  Perhaps,  said  I  to  her  in  my  mind, 
we  shall  meet  in  heaven."  Setting  sail  again,  they 
were  on  the  ocean  five  weeks  more  before  reaching 
San  Salvador,  when  Henry  Martyn  went  on  shore  with 
thankfulness,  the  ship  having  escaped  the  peril  of 
utter  loss  upon  some  dangerous  reefs.  Two  of  the 
other  vessels  were  wrecked  and  many  of  the  crew 
drowned.  His  letters  at  this  time  are  full  of  striking 
descriptions  of  the  place  and  the  people,  and  he  ob- 
serves how,  in  his  walks,  he  saw  the  superstition  of  the 
devotees  in  worshipping  relics  or  kneeling  at  wayside 
crosses.  It  was  during  one  of  these  excursions  that 
he  met  with  one  who  received  him  most  kindly,  and 
left  a  very  happy  impression  on  the  mind  of  the 
young  missionary. 

He  had  passed  through  a  porch  in  search  of  shade, 
and  walking  through  a  sort  of  orchard  saw  an  old 
man,  evidently  in  ill  health,  sitting  out  of  doors. 
Martyn  addressed  him  in  French  and  English  without 
effect,  but  a  young  lady  came  who  understood  the 
former  language,  and  the  son  of  the  old  man,  who  had 
been  educated  at  a  Portuguese  university,  also  drew 
near.  Having  heard  that  the  stranger  came  from 
Cambridge,  he  was  bidden  welcome  to  the  house. 
"  Thus,"  says  he,  "  did  the  Lord  give  His  servant 
favour  in  the  eyes  of  Antonio  Joseph  Corr^." 

After  this  Martyn  paid  this  hospitable  household 


^ 


56  HENRY   MARTYN. 

several  visits,  and  on  one  occasion  he  tells  us  that  he 
found  a  quiet  spot  in  one  of  these  beautiful  gardens, 
and  sang, 

"  O'er  those  gloomy  hills  of  darkness 
Look,  my  soul  ;  be  still  and  gaze  ; 
All  the  promises  do  travel 
To  a  glorious  day  of  grace  : 
Blessed  jubilee  ! 
^;A  Let  thy  glorious  morning  dawn. 

*'  Let  the  Indian,  let  the  Negro, 

Let  the  rude  barbarian  see 
That  Divine  and  glorious  conquest, 
Once  obtained  on  Calvary  ; 
Let  the  Gospel 
Loud  resound  from  pole  to  pole." 

At  another  time  we  find  him  wandering  about  the 
plantations  and  studying  under  the  direction  of  his 
host  the  culture  and  preparation  of  pepper,  lemons, 
and  tapioca;  meanwhile  he  finds  opportunity  to  speak 
to  this  hospitable  Portuguese  upon  higher  things. 
The  old  man  whom  he  had  first  seen  was  evidently  a 
bigoted  Papist,  but  the  son  told  Martyn  that  he  him- 
self had  no  faith  in  the  saints,  and  his  outward  observ- 
ance of  Catholic  customs  was  only  because  he  thought 
it  expedient.  Very  different  was  the  mould  in  which 
Martyn  had  been  made,  and  he  with  spirit  told  Antonio 
how  in  England  men  and  women  went  to  the  stake 
rather  than  conform.  Pressed  with  earnest  teaching 
on  the  subject  of  the  new  birth,  the  young  Portuguese 
grew  inattentive,  and  found  relief  in  leaving  his  pious 
guest  in  the  company  of  some  Franciscan  monks,  into 
whose  monastery  he  had  by  this  time  entered.  One 
of  the  friars  seems  to  have  taken  a  fancy  to  the  young 
Englishman,  and  freely  talked  with  him  upon  matters 
of  faith.     The  conversation  was  in  Latin,  and  while 


OUTWARD    BOUND.  57 

they  stood  discussing  in  one  of  the  cool  cloisters  other 
monks  came  round  and  listened  with  great  attention. 
Martyn  tells  us  :  "  I  confuted  all  their  errors  as  plainly 
as  possible  from  the  Word  of  God,  and  they  had 
nothing  to  reply,  but  did  not  seem  disconcerted.  A 
whole  troop  of  others,  passing  in  procession  in  the 
opposite  cloister  below,  beckoned  to  them  to  retire, 
which  they  did,  taking  me  along  with  them  to  a  cell 
— two  before  and  one  on  each  side.  As  we  passed 
along  the  passage  one  asked  me  whether  I  was  a 
Christian.  When  we  had  all  reached  the  cell  and  sat 
down  I  asked  for  a  Bible,  and  the  dispute  was 
renewed."  Several  here  joined  in  the  conversation, 
some  flippantly,  others  with  anger,  and  as  the  sun  set 
and  darkness  filled  the  gloomy  corridor,  Martyn 
confesses  to  feeling  some  trepidation  under  the  circum- 
stances. But  they  courteously  conducted  him  to  the 
gate  and  bade  him  farewell,  thus  ending  a  visit  which 
at  any  rate  to  them  would  long  be  an  incident  to  talk 
about. 

When  the  time  came  to  say  good-bye  to  his  friends 
Senor  and  Senora  Corre,  it  was  with  much  regret  on 
both  sides  ;  and  on  his  way  back  to  the  ship,  rowed 
by  Mohammedans  in  their  white  dresses,  his  mind 
was  grieved  with  their  hymns  as  they  sang  the 
praises  of  the  False  Prophet.  He  had  a  talk  on 
these  things  with  his  companion  in  the  boat,  but  met 
with  scant  encouragement.  "  What  more  could  be 
necessary  than  simply  to  tell  mankind  that  they  must 
be  sober  and  honest  ? "  was  the  question  put  to  him 
in  answer  to  faithful  teaching  of  Christ  and  Him 
crucified.  Martyn  felt  shocked  and  utterly  dismayed 
at  the  superstition  and  ignorance  with  which  he  had 
met  in  that  fair  land,  and  how  little  his  words  seemed 


58  HENRY   MARTYN. 

to  affect  his  hearers.  "  I  never  felt  so  strongly,"  he 
says,  "  what  a  nothing  I  am.  All  my  clear  arguments 
are  good  for  nothing ;  unless  the  Lord  stretch  out 
His  hand,  I  speak  to  stones." 

When  once  more  journeying  with  his  ship's  com- 
pany, he  found  trials  and  suffering  enough.  His 
Gospel  was  rejected,  the  officers  were  contemptuous  of 
the  pale-faced  and  zealous  evangelist,  the  soldiers  and 
sailors  scoffed  at  him  because  he  rebuked  their  sinful 
conduct.  Before  long,  however,  the  Union  with  its 
convoy  reached  the  Cape,  where  the  soldiers  were 
landed  to  fight  the  Dutch,  who  were  in  possession 
there.  Here  Henry  Martyn  had  his  first  taste  of  war. 
The  horror  of  it  filled  his  mind  with  grief  and  com- 
passion. He  walked  among  the  wounded  after  the 
battle,  speaking  to  dying  men  of  a  present  and 
merciful  Saviour,  throwing  gently  his  own  coat  over 
the  form  of  one  poor  fellow  left  to  die,  and  in  the 
farmhouse,  which  had  been  made  a  temporary  hos- 
pital for  the  sufferers,  he  ministered  faithfully  and 
lovingly  to  those  who  in  most  cases  were  appointed 
to  die. 

Although  a  military  chaplain,  Martyn  was  distressed 
and  saddened  at  that  bloodshed  which  then,  even 
more  than  now,  was  called  warlike  glory.  When  the 
Dutch  flag  was  struck,  and  his  countrymen  around 
him  were  boasting  of  conquests,  Martyn  turns  aside 
with  loathing.  "  Every  observation  of  this  sort  which 
I  hear,"  he  says,  "  cuts  me  to  the  very  heart  ;  whether 
from  nature  or  grace,  I  do  not  know,  but  I  had  rather 
be  trampled  upon  than  be  the  trampler.  I  could  find 
it  more  agreeable  to  my  own  feelings  to  go  and  weep 
with  the  relatives  of  the  men  whom  the  English  have 
killed,  than  to  rejoice  at  the  laurels  they  have  won." 


OUTWARD    BOUND. 


59 


Once  he  nearly  lost  his  life  ;  left  for  a  few  moments 
by  the  surgeon  alone,  a  drunken  Highlander  chal- 
lenged him,  disbelieving  his  word  when  he  protested 
that  he  was  an  Englishman,  and  prepared  to  shoot 
-him.  Martyn  at  the  critical  moment  rushed  up, 
closed  with  him,  and  insisted  upon  being  taken 
l)risoner,  when  it  would  be  found  that  he  was  the 
chaplain  to  the  troops. 

His  reflections  here  may  fitly  close  the  chapter. 
"  I  lay  down,"  says  he,  "  on  the  border  of  a  clump  of 
shrubs  and  bushes  with  the  field  of  battle  in  view,  and 
there  lifted  up  my  soul  to  God.  Mournful  as  the 
scene  was,  I  yet  thanked  God  that  He  had  brought 
me  to  see  a  specimen,  though  a  terrible  one,  of  what 
men  by  nature  are.  May  the  remembrance  of  this 
day  ever  excite  me  to  pray  and  labour  more  for  the 
propagation  of  the  Gospel  of  peace.  Then  shall  men 
love  one  another :  '  Nation  shall  not  lift  up  sword 
against  nation,  neither  shall  they  learn  war  any 
more.' " 


-^M 


'^^MpM 


CHAPTER  IV. 


INDIA   FOR   CHRIST. 


Come,  in  Thee  our  toil  is  sweet, 

Shelter  from  the  noontide  heat, 
From  whom  sorrow  flieth  fleet. 

Kinf;  Robcji  of  France. 

JUST  nine  weary  months  had  elapsed  when,  at 
sunrise,  on  the  22nd  of  April,  1806,  Henry 
Martyn  stood  on  the  deck  as  the  ship  sailed  into 
the  Madras  roads,  and  shortly  after  the  young 
missionary  felt  the  dream  of  his  life  fulfilled  as  he 
stepped  on  the  shore  of  India.  To  this  moment  he 
had  looked  forward  ever  since  from  the  lips  of  Mr. 
Simeon  at  Cambridge  he  had  heard  of  the  spiritual 
destitution  of  our  great  dependency  in  the  East,  and 
he  had  longed,  almost  impatiently,  while  detained  at 
San  Salvador  and  the  Cape,  to  reach  his  journey's  end. 
It  was  a  solemn  and  impressive  beginning  of  a  min- 
istry which  he  knew  would  tax  all  his  physical 
powers,  and  possibly  hasten  the  moment  of  his  pre- 
mature decease.  For  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that 
Henry  Martyn  was  always  conscious  of  his  constitu- 
60 


IN' 1)1  A    FOR    CHRIST.  6l 

tloiial  delicacy,  and  knew  only  too  well  that  many 
years  of  life  were  not  allotted  to  him.  This  preva- 
lent and  sobering;-  reminder  may  not  only  account  for 
a  certain  melancholy  "  pale  cast  of  thought,"  but  also 
for  the  intense  and  heroic  endeavour  to  endure  hard- 
ness as  a  good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  attempt 
the  most  for  Ilim,  so  as  to  make  the  utmost  of  his 
present  opportunity. 

Not  long  before  the  ship  came  in  sight  of  India, 
the  young  missionary  spent  a  solemn  Good  Friday  in 
dwelling  on  the  mighty  sacrifice  of  the  Cross,  and  the 
responsibility  which  attached  to  him  in  going  forth 
into  this  heathen  land  to  preach  its  efficacy  among 
an  ignorant  and  idolatrous  people.  The  day  was 
spent  in  fasting  and  constant  prayer.  He  tells  us 
how  greatly  his  faith  was  strengthened  by  the  pro- 
mises of  God  as  to  the  conversion  of  the  heathen. 
Believing  from  his  heart  of  hearts  that  he  was  sent 
b}'  Divine  command  to  preach  the  unsearchable 
riches  to  these  poor  souls,  he  kept  repeating  to  himself 
the  text,  "  I  have  set  watchmen  upon  thy  walls, 
O  Jerusalem,  which  shall  never  hold  their  peace 
day  nor  night  :  ye  that  make  mention  of  the  Lord, 
keep  not  silence,  and  give  Him  no  rest,  till  He 
establish,  and  till  He  make  Jerusalem  a  praise  in  the 
earth." 

His  "ministry  on  shipboard  certainly  had  not  been 
encouraging.  The  rude  treatment  which  he  had 
received  from  both  officers  and  men  did  not  abate 
when  he  gave  them  a  few  earnest  farewell  words  at 
parting.  His  solemnity  was  satirised,  and  his  burn- 
ing yearning  for  their  souls  was  apparently  thrown 
away  upon  hard  and  impenitent  hearts.  "Yet,"  he  says, 
*'  I  desire  to  take  the  ridicule  of  men  with  all  meek- 


62  HENRY   MARTYN. 

ness   and  chanty,  looking  forward   to  another  world 
for  approbation  and  reward." 

Thus  chastened  and  brought  low  in  self-esteem,  he 
took  his  stand  on  Indian  soil,  strong  in  the  grace  and 
power  of  God.  Gazing  around  upon  the  crowds  of 
dusky  forms  in  their  white  turbans,  he  exclaimed 
with  fervour,  "  Oh  !  if  I  live,  let  me  have  come  hither 
to  some  purpose." 

He  was  greatly  struck  with  the  subjection  of  the 
natives,  meekly  attending  upon  the  wants  of  the 
English  people,  and  his  sympathetic  heart  prompted 
the  thought,  "  I  could  not  help  feeling  as  if  we  had 
got  into  their  places." 

The  coming  to  India  of  Henry  Martyn  was  a  direct 
answer  to  prayer.  Such  was  the  need  of  this  great 
harvest  field,  that  the  few  workers  therein  had  made 
it  a  special  point  to  meet  in  Calcutta  once  a  week  for 
the  purpose  of  asking  God  to  send  forth  to  India  some 
man  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of  power  to  preach 
the  Gospel.  And  when  Martyn  appeared  on  the 
shore,  he  was  received  and  welcomed  by  the  Christian 
missionaries  as  one  sent  from  God.  Dr.  Buchanan 
was  one  of  those  who  had,  in  their  labours,  prayed 
for  fresh  labourers,  but  he  had  just  started  for  Syria 
when  Martyn  arrived,  and  passed  him,  without  know- 
ing it,  as  the  Union  passed  up  the  Hooghly  to  Calcutta. 
But  the  Rev.  David  Brown  was  there  to  grasp  his 
hand,  as  well  as  Carey  and  Ward,  the  devoted 
Baptist  missionaries,  who  were  busily  translating  the 
Scriptures  into  the  language  of  the  people. 

It  must  never  be  forgotten,  in  taking  a  just  view  of 
the  situation,  at  the  moment  of  Martyn's  entry  into 
India,  that  the  bitterest  hostility  to  the  missionaries 
was  displayed  by  those  in  power.     The  British  flag, 


INDIA    FOR   CIIKIST.  63 

whicli  now  is  the  rallying  point  where  the  missionary 
knows  he  can  find  encouragement  and,  if  necessary, 
protection,  was  in  India  the  symbol  of  a  hatred  and 
jealousy  of  any  Mission  work  which  brought  the 
Gospel  to  the  common  people.  The  Anglo-Indians  of 
that  day  had  evidently  not  a  very  intimate  knowledge 
of  what  a  spiritual  Christianity  was,  and  felt  the 
utmost  fear  lest  the  offer  of  the  grace  and  mercy  of 
Christ  might  upset  their  hold  upon  the  people.  The 
truth  possibly  was  that  the  method  and  spirit  by  which 
India  was  then  held,  would  have  squared  badly  with 
the  spirit  and  precepts  of  the  Lord.  The  faithful  few, 
especially  Carey,  Marshman  and  Ward,  were  treated 
with  a  violence  such  as  reminds  us  of  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  and  in  their  own  land  at  home  their 
traducers  were  many  and  bitter.  Sydney  Smith,  the 
witty  canon  of  St.  Paul's,  attacked  them  mercilessly 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review  and  elsewhere,  and  the  con- 
flict was  even  felt  in  the  House  of  Commons,  where, 
however,  in  Wilberforce  they  had  a  champion  and 
friend. 

Just  before  Martyn  arrived  upon  the  scene.  Lord 
Wellcsley  had  returned  to  England,  and  in  the  interval 
between  his  departure  and  the  arrival  of  the  new 
Governor-general  the  reins  of  power  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Sir  George  Barlow,  a  civil  servant  of  the 
East  India  Company.  He  directly  objected  to  the 
translation  and  dissemination  of  the  Scriptures  as  a 
dangerous  interference  with  the  religious  prejudices  of 
the  natives.  A  mutiny  which  took  place  in  the 
Madras  Presidency  had  actually  been  laid  to  the 
blame  of  the  missionaries,  and  their  preaching  the 
Christian  religion.  Martyn  was  on  his  way  to  India 
when  Carey,  in  his  report  home,  had  just  sent  these 


64  HENRY   MARTYN. 

words  to  his  committee  : — "  We  are  much  in  the  situa- 
tion in  which  the  apostles  were  when  commanded 
not  to  teach  or  preach  any  more  in  His  name !  They, 
it  is  true,  replied,  'Whether  it  be  right  in  the  sight  of 
God  to  obey  you  rather  than  God  judge  ye.'  Would 
it  be  right  or  not  for  us  to  make  the  same  reply  in  the 
first  instance?  On  the  one  hand,  our  prospects  of 
success  are  obscured,  and  those  opening  doors  for 
usefulness,  which  a  few  days  ago  engaged  our  atten- 
tion and  animated  our  exertions,  are  shut  by  this 
cruel  message ;  the  consequence  is  that  souls  are 
perishing  on  every  side,  and  we  are  forbidden  to 
administer  the  remedy  which  God  has  put  into  our 
hands.  To  act  in  open  defiance  of  the  wish  of  the 
Governor- general  might  occasion  a  positive  law 
against  evangelising  the  heathen,  and  at  once  break 
up  the  Mission  which  has  been  settled  at  so  great 
expense.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  probable  if  we 
yield  a  little  to  the  present  storm  it  may  soon  blow 
over,  and  we  may  not  only  enjoy  our  present  privi- 
leges, but  obtain  the  liberty  we  have  so  long  wished 
for."  Here,  then,  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
missionaries  in  a  very  strait  betwixt  two  in  his 
work,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  under  such  dis- 
couragements the  brethren  committed  their  cause  to 
God,  and  prayed  for  help  to  come  from  England  to 
strengthen  their  hearts  and  minds. 

But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the  position  of 
Martyn  was  peculiar  and  hardly  promising  of  success. 
He  had  been  commissioned  by  his  employers,  the 
East  India  Company,  to  go  out,  not  to  preach  to  the 
natives,  but  to  the  English  people  resident  there. 
Besides  this,  he  held  an  office  which  placed  him  under 
the  control  of  the  military  authorities,  and   he  must 


INDIA   FOR   CHRIST.  6$ 

work  within  certain  limits,  and  obey  his  orders  as 
chaplain  with  the  same  fidelity  and  docility  as  any 
private  soldier  in  the  ranks.  A  strictly  tied  up  con- 
dition of  service  which  could  scarcely  be  otherwise 
than  as  fetters  and  bandages  to  a  spirit  yearning  to 
have  free  course  in  proclaiming  the  Gospel. 

Even  his  status  as  a  clergyman  of  the  Church  of 
England  was  not  without  its  disagreeable  features. 
He  came  out  to  India  as  representative  of  a  party  in 
his  Church  which  was  looked  upon  with  mingled  con- 
tempt and  ridicule.  The  evangelicalism  of  Charles 
Simeon  was  far  too  earnest  for  the  easy  Church  manners 
of  that  day.  Henry  Martyn  had  his  baptism  of  fire 
of  persecution  at  Cambridge  as  a  loyal  disciple  of 
Simeon  and  the  Clapham  sect,  and  he  soon  found  the 
same  spirit  of  opposition  in  Indian  society.  Then,  as 
now,  the  "  offence  of  the  Cross  "  formed  the  stumbling 
block  in  the  way  of  the  salvation  of  respectable  pro- 
fessors. 

One  of  the  first  and  best  friends  to  open  heart  and 
house  to  Henry  Martyn  was  the  venerable  Rev. 
David  Brown,  who  lived  at  Aldeen,  about  twelve  or 
fifteen  miles  from  Calcutta,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ilooghly.  In  his  garden  was  an  ancient  pagoda, 
originally  devoted  to  the  worship  of  the  god  Bulhub, 
an  imposing  structure  of  some  dimensions,  and  here 
at  the  invitation  of  his  host  Henry  Martyn  took  up 
his  abode.  He  tells  us,  "  Notwithstanding  the  vicis- 
situdes of  life,  who  could  have  guessed  a  few  years  ago 
that  I  should  have  at  last  found  a  house  in  an  Indian 
pagoda?"  To  his  mind  the  circumstance  was  filled 
with  suggestions,  and  as  he  sat  there  at  his  transla- 
tions, preparing  his  sermons,  or  singing  the  songs  of 
Zion,  he  rejoiced  "  that  the  place  where  once  devils 

£ 


66  HENRY   MARTYN. 

were    worshipped     was     now     become    a    Christian 
oratory." 

Whatever  objection  Calcutta  society  had  to  his  theo- 
logical opinions,  and  however  much  his  earnest  appeals 
affronted  them,  there  was  no  question  with  them 
about  his  intellectual  abilities,  and  we  find  pressing 
invitations  being  urged  upon  the  young  army  chaplain 
by  his  friends,  to  relinquish  his  desire  for  work  farther 
a-field,  and  to  stay  in  the  city  permanently.  Had 
he  considered  his  own  comfort  and  worldly  advance- 
ment, such  offers  would  have  been  of  some  effect,  but 
Martyn  had  in  his  bosom  the  sacred  fire  of  a  true 
missionary  enthusiasm,  which  counted  all  but  loss 
that  he  might  convert  the  heathen  to  Christ.  The 
memory  of  Schwartz  was  in  his  mind,  he  had  drunk  in 
the  spirit  of  David  Brainerd,  and  the  love  of  souls 
urged  him  on.  For  this  cause  he  had  crossed  the  sea, 
and  he  was  straitened  in  his  desire  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  that  glorious  end.  "  To  be  prevented  from 
going  to  the  heathen,"  said  he  with  intense  emotion, 
"  would  almost  break  my  heart." 

The  fire  of  his  zeal  was  fed  by  the  sights  and  sounds 
which  already  reminded  him  that  he  was  no  longer  in 
a  Christian  land.  At  this  time  no  effort  had  been 
made  by  the  East  India  Company  to  interfere  with 
the  idolatrous  and  cruel  observances  of  the  natives, 
and  sights  of  self-immolation,  happily  strange  to 
India  to-day,  were  a  constant  pain  to  those  who  had 
come  with  the  Gospel  of  light  and  peace.  The 
Romanism  of  the  Portuguese  had  filled  Martyn  with 
sorrow,  but  here  he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  a 
paganism  which  added  the  keenest  cruelty  to  the 
darkest  ignorance. 
\      One  day  while  taking  a  walk  in  the  vicinity  of  his 


INDIA    I'OR   CHRIST. 


67 


comfortable  quarters  on  the  banks  of  the  Ilooghly, 
he  was  horrified  to  see  for  the  first  time  the  ascendinGf 
smoke  of  one  of  tliose  funeral  rites,  about  which  he 
had  often  heard  when  in  ICni^land.  lie  could  see  the 
natives  crowding-  round  the  [)}'re  amid  deafening  sounds 
of  wild  music,  and  the  woman  had  already  climbed 
to  her  place  to  share  the  burning  of  her  husband's 
remains.  Filled  with  burning  indignation  the  young 
Englishman    rushed    forward,    and     attempted     her 


% 


MARTYN   TRYING   TO   SAVE   A   WOMAN  S   LIFE   AT   A   SUTTEE. 


rescue,  but  his  efforts  were  unavailing,  and  deeply 
saddened  he  retraced  his  steps.  At  another  time  the 
worship  of  devils,  which  was  being  noisily  celebrated 
in  a  house,  near  to  which  he  had  been  attracted  by  the 
cymbals,  and  the  continual  spectacle  of  these  poor 
people  offering  obeisance  to  idols,  and  lying  on  the 
ground  in  abject  fear  of  the  very  images  their  own 
hands  had  made,  deeply  impressed  him.  He  seemed 
to  be  standing,  as  he  expressed  it,  "  in  the  neighbour- 


6S  HENRY   MARTYN. 

hood  of  hell,"  his  repugnance  to  idolatry  was  as  strong 
as  that  of  a  pious  Jew. 

He  made  up  his  mind  henceforth  that  he  would  not 

spare  himself  in  effort  and  application,  to  give  these 

benighted  heathen  the  Gospel  in  their  own  tongue.    To 

,  this  sacred  duty  he  now  bent  all  his  energies,  and  in 

•  the  pagoda  at  Aldeen,  Henry  Martyn  worked  inces- 

:  santly  in  order  to  acquire   a  thorough  knowledge  of 

Hindustani,  in  which  he   had  the   assistance  of  an 

educated  Brahmin. 

He  had  suffered  acutely  from  fever  soon  after  his 
arrival,  and  had  got  down  so  low,  as  to  think  that  he 
would  die  with  his  work  undone.  "  I  began  to  pray,"  he 
writes, "  as  on  the  verge  of  eternity,  and  the  Lord  was 
pleased  to  break  my  hard  heart.  I  lay  in  tears  inter- 
ceding for  the  unfortunate  natives  of  this  country,  think- 
ing within  myself  that  the  most  despicable  soodar  of 
India  was  of  as  much  value  in  the  sight  of  God  as  the 
king  of  Great  Britain."*  From  this  fever  he  hap- 
pily recovered,  and  becoming  acclimatised,  began  to 
find  room  for  thankfulness  in  the  atmosphere  of  his 
adopted  country.  "  In  the  cloudy  climate  of  England 
I  was  always  oppressed  with  the  body,  but  here  I  feel 
as  light  as  air,  and  go  rejoicing  all  the  day  long." 
This  possibly  was  a  too  favourable  expression  of 
one  who  was  so  sensitive  to  the  influence  of  either 
sorrow  or  joy.  He  admits,  in  a  reservation  which 
became  historically  true  in  his  own  case,  alas,  too  soon, 
"  By  thus  living  as  it  were  faster,  life  is  probably 
shortened,  and  by-and-by  I  may  feel  the  depressing 
and  relaxing  influence  of  the  climate  upon  the  body, 
as  well  as  the  mind." 

It  seems  almost  incredible  that  with  such  a  man 
pnder  such  circumstances,  ready  to  give  himself  for 


INDIA   FOR   CHRIST.  69 

tlic  sake  of  others,  and  possessed  with  such  an 
evident  zeal  for  the  souls  of  men,  such  hostility 
should  have  arisen  among  his  own  countrymen 
against  the  pulpit  administrations  of  Henry  Martyn. 
One  would  think  that  these  people  had  determined 
upon  making  Calcutta  unbearable  for  the  young 
chaplain,  who  they  knew  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  Charles 
Simeon,  and  had  come  thither  to  teach  what  seemed 
in  their  eyes  such  outrageous  doctrines  as  justification 
by  faith.  His  fellow-clergymen  joined  in  the  general 
outcry.  The  position  of  affairs  is  perhaps  best  repre- 
sented by  his  own  account,  written  to  his  friend,  Mr. 
Grant,  in  London,  in  September,  1806  : — 

"  The  ministerial  work  assigned  to  me  here  is  to 
preach  every  Sabbath  evening  at  the  mission  church, 
and  every  third  Sunday  at  the  other.  With  the 
former  I  am  delighted,  the  congregation  is  numerous 
and  attentive,  and  as  I  have  heard  there  are  encourag- 
ing appearances  of  a  work  of  grace  among  them. 
At  the  New  Church  I  am  as  a  wonder  unto  many. 
Whether  it  is  they  judge  of  me  relatively  with  the 
other  clergymen  who  cannot  boast  of  much  physical 
strength,  or  whether  I  have  really  recovered  from  that 
insipidity  so  much  complained  of  at  St.  John's  Chapel, 
by  having  exercised  my  lungs  so  many  months  on 
the  quarter  deck,  I  am  called  a  son  of  thunder  in  this 
place.  The  Sunday  after  my  first  sermon  at  the  new 
church.  Dr.  Ward  preached  vehemently  on  the 
opposite  side.  I  was  not  present  at  the  time,  being 
laid  up  with  a  bilious  fever,  but  heard  that  it  was 
against  evangelical  persons  and  things  in  general. 
After  describing  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  sect  of 
evangelical  clergymen  in  the  Church,  he  proceeded  to 
deny  one  by  one  all  the   leading   doctrines    of  the 


70  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Gospel.  The  personal  abuse  of  me  which  his  sermon 
contained,  gave  such  offence  that  he  found  it  neces- 
sary to  let  it  be  read,  since  which  many  have  thought 
better  of  it.  After  the  second  which  I  preached. 
Limerick  attacked  me.  He,  too,  was  very  personal, 
and  gravely  and  distinctly  denied  all  the  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel.  As  I  knew  how  much  carnal  people 
would  enjoy  a  controversy  between  their  teachers, 
and  so  elude  the  force  of  what  was  intended  for  their 
consciences,  I  declined  making  the  smallest  allusion 
to  what  had  been  said.  Notwithstanding  this  many 
stay  away  from  church,  because  they  ^^.y  parties  are 
running  so  high  among  the  clergymen.  Jefferies 
unites  himself  with  us  and  has  preached  the  pure 
truth.  Stacey  will  not  enter  the  church  until  it  is 
purified  from  our  errors.  We  anxiously  await  the 
arrival  of  Corrie  and  Parson  whom  we  expect  in  the 
next  fleet.  When  I  can  see  Mr.  Brown  supplied  with 
coadjutors  in  Mr.  Buchanan's  absence,  I  shall  proceed 
to  my  proper  work  with  double  pleasure.  I  rejoice 
in  the  dispensation  of  God  in  sending  me  to  this 
country  more  than  ever.  Through  His  mercy  I  enjoy 
excellent  health,  and  I  feel  little  doubt  of  seeing  some 
of  these  poor  people  turning  to  God  from  idols, 
which  hope  is  the  health  of  my  soul." 

Such  an  account  of  the  official  Christianity  of  Cal- 
cutta, most  temperately  described  by  the  one  who 
was  the  chief  object  of  its  intolerance,  provides  us 
with  a  glimpse,  and  we  .  want  no  more  than  that, 
\  of  the  religious  contentions  of  that  day.  Henry 
Martyn  represented  the  awakened  spirituality  of  the 
Church,  and  was  a  protest  against  the  comfortable 
\  legalism  and  worldliness  which  characterised  the 
time.     His  uncompromising  advocacy  of  what  he  felt 


INDIA    FOR    CHRIST.  7I 

to  be  Scriptural  truth,  made  him  obnoxious  to  those 
who  cared  httle  for  these  things,  for  to  them  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  were  but  temporal,  and  the 
things  which  are  seen  had  become  eternal  verities. 

The  young  missionary  does  not  appear  to  have  felt 
the  antagonism  of  the  foes  of  his  own  spiritual  house- 
hold very  keenly ;  possibly  it  forced  him  more  upon 
the  path  of  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  natives,  and 
sent  him  as  a  messenger  of  mercy  to  the  Gentile 
heathen  who  had  never  heard  of  salvation.  He  bore 
his  traducers  no  malice,  forbore,  as  we  have  seen,  to 
be  a  party  to  religious  war,  and  tells  us  in  one  of  his 
letters  how  much  he  enjoyed  an  occasion  when  these 
very  people  met  him  at  the  table  of  the  Lord,  and 
there,  at  any  rate  for  a  time,  they  realised  the  unity  of 
the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace. 

But  henceforth  Martyn  set  his  face  to  a  wider  field, 
and  girt  himself  for  that  heroic  and  toilsome  journey 
of  a  few  brief  years  to  achieve  a  victory  for  the 
Cross  over  superstition  and  sin,  and  to  bring  the 
souls  for  whom  Christ  died  into  the  glory  of  "  that 
light  which  lighteneth  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world." 


CHAPTER    V. 


FACING   THE   ENEMY. 


Thou  wert  my  rock,  my  shield,  my  sword, 
My  trust  was  in  Thy  name  and  word  ; 

'Twas  in  Thy  strength  my  heart  was  strong 
Thy  spirit  went  with  mine  along, 

How  was  I  then  alone? — Bishop  Heber. 

THE  appointment  for  which  Henry  Martyn  had 
been  waiting  came  at  last,  and  he  was  ordered 
to  proceed  without  loss  of  time  to  Dinapore,  a 
military  station  many  miles  up  the  Ganges. 
In  some  respects  he  could  not  have  much  cause  for 
regret  at  leaving  Calcutta,  where  his  work  had  not 
been  an  unmixed  experience,  and  he  looked  with 
many  yearnings  to  a  closer  contact  with  the  natives. 
Still  the  parting  with  his  friends  at  Aldeen,  from 
whom  he  had  received  such  great  kindness,  moved 
him  not  a  little. 

It  was  at  once  a  meeting  and  a  departure,  for  just 
before  Martyn  left  Calcutta  he  heartily  welcomed  the 
two  good  men,  Messrs.  Corrie  and  Parsons,  who  had 
recently  left  England  to  enter  this  field  of  work.  He 
had  much  conversation  with  them,  asking  eagerly 
72 


FACIN(;   TlIK   KNKMY.  73 

about  his  friends  at  home,  and  the  state  of  the  Church 
in  his  native  land. 

For  the  last  time  he  sat  in  the  pagoda  at  Aldeen. 
His  friends  gathered  round  him  to  join  in  a  simple 
valedictory  service,  commending  him  to  God.  It  must 
have  been  an  intensely  interesting  gathering ;  the 
shadowy  temple,  in  which  once  the  idolatries  of  poor 
superstitious  people  took  place,  now  resounded  to  the 
voice  of  prayer,  and  the  praises  of  Him  who  is  King 
over  all,  blessed  for  evermore.  Martyn  once  again 
consecrated  himself  solemnly  to  the  work,  and  almost 
passionately  dwelt  on  the  trials  and  triumphs  which^  a  S 
were  in  store  for  him  on  his  future  way.  "  Gladly 
shall  this  base  blood  be  shed,"  he  exclaimed,  "  if  India 
can  be  benefited  in  one  of  her  children  ! "  After- 
wards, in  referring  to  this  little  gathering,  he  says : — 
"  My  soul  never  yet  had  such  Divine  enjoyment. 
I  felt  a  desire  to  break  from  the  body,  and  join  the  ! 
high  praises  of  the  saints  above.  May  I  go  '  in  the 
strength  of  this  many  days — Amen.'  "  I 

A  large  river  boat,  known  as  a  budgerow,  was  ready 
to  convey  him  up  the  river  to  his  destination,  and  in 
this  he  embarked  on  the  15th  of  October,  several  of 
his  friends  taking  advantage  of  the  opportunity  for 
a  little  more  of  his  society  by  going  part  of  the 
way  up  the  stream.  His  old  friend  and  kind  host, 
Mr.  Brown,  was  on  board,  together  with  the  two 
missionaries  from  England,  and  as  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  Baptist  Mission-house,  Dr.  Marshman 
hastened  also  to  accompany  him  a  little  way.  Soon 
a  stormy  wind  from  the  north-east  began  to  lash  the 
waves  to  fury,  and  it  became  evident  that  the  brethren 
must  soon  leave  him  in  order  to  get  back  to  Calcutta 
in  reasonable  time.     Here  again,  however,  a  simple 


74  HENRY   MARTYN. 

service  took  place,  expressive  of  their  mutual  and 
brotherly  love,  and  their  dependence  upon  the  Lord, 
whose  servants  they  were.  In  the  little  cabin  they  sat 
together,  each  in  turn  reading  some  suitable  portion  of 
Holy  Scripture,  and  thus  comforting  one  another  with 
the  sacred  Word.  One  text  selected  by  Mr.  Brown, 
"  Have  I  not  sent  thee  ? "  appears  to  have  much 
affected  Henry  Martyn,  and  then,  as  they  once  more 
knelt  together,  he  felt  the  encouragement  of  Divine 
grace,  and  the  blessing  of  united  prayer.  Then,  as 
the  storm  raged,  they  stood  on  deck  again,  and  bade 
each  other  farewell.  He  watched  them  until  they 
had  disappeared,  and  then  turned  sadly,  and,  with 
a  strange  sense  of  loneliness,  went  into  his  cabin 
again.  No  progress  could  be  made  in  the  teeth  of 
such  driving  wind  and  rain,  so  the  rather  cumbrous 
barge  had  to  be  kept  well  in  the  shallows  all  day, 
leaking  freely  from  the  buffeting  of  the  waves  as 
she  lay  on  the  shore. 

Martyn  was  now  left  entirely  to  his  natives,  and 
began  work  at  once  with  the  moonshee  whom  he  had 
specially  commissioned  to  help  him  in  the  translation 
of  the  Scriptures.  This  man  seems  to  have  been  a 
rather  hot-headed  individual,  but  does  not  appear  to 
have  made  a  very  spirited  show  of  his  courage  during 
this  river  storm,  for  Martyn  was  so  struck  by  his 
alarms  as  to  think  it  a  fitting  moment  to  speak  on 
those  matters  which  were  nearest  his  own  heart. 
"  May  God  be  our  protection,"  was  the  laconic  reply 
of  the  moonshee,  who  regained  his  indifference  and 
boasting  when  the  weather  improved. 

For  several  days  Martyn  worked  incessantly  at  his 
translations,  reading  Sanscrit,  and  occasionally  trying 
to  get  the  moonshee  to  talk  about  the  Gospel,  which 


FACING    Tin:    ENEMY.  75 

they  had  so  much  under  consideration,  but  with  Httlc 
encouragement.  It  was  his  custom  to  leave  the  boat 
in  tlie  early  morning,  and  with  his  gun  provide  game 
for  their  meals,  and  often  in  these  wanderings  he 
would  make  himself  known  to  the  natives  in  the 
villages  through  which  they  passed.  Attracted  one 
day  by  the  sound  of  cymbals  and  drums,  he  soon 
found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  fanatical 
worshippers,  and  on  their  invitation  he  entered  the 
idol- house.  The  Brahmin  in  charge  in  answer  to  some 
questions  grew  excited,  and  poured  forth  his  protesta- 
tions so  fast,  that  Martyn  failed  to  follow  him,  but  the 
people  understood,  and  made  a  great  noise.  Waiting 
patiently  till  the  uproar  had  ceased,  the  missionary 
quietly  reasoned  with  the  man,  and  talked  of  the 
things  of  God  to  one  who  now  listened  with  surpris- 
ing attention.  "  Was  idol  worship  true  or  false  ?  "  was 
the  Brahmin's  earnest  question,  and  Martyn  makes  the 
following  grateful  note  of  the  incident : — "  I  feel  it  a 
matter  of  thankfulness  that  I  could  make  known  the 
truth  of  God,  though  but  a  stammerer,  and  that  I  had 
declared  it  in  the  presence  of  the  devil.  And  this  also 
I  learnt,  that  the  power  of  gentleness  is  irresistible." 

At  every  step  of  the  way,  the  idolatry  of  the  people 
was  prominently  forced  upon  his  attention.  As  he 
lifted  his  eyes  from  his  own  devotions,  he  saw  young 
Brahmins  of  the  same  age  as  himself,  worshipping  on 
the  margin  of  the  sacred  stream,  and  on  one  occasion 
there  was  a  grand  festival  in  honour  of  the  goddess  Cali, 
her  effigies  being  thrown  into  the  river,  and  huge  tinsel 
representations  of  her  being  fixed  in  the  boats  which 
lined  the  bank.  The  worshippers  tried  to  attract  his 
attention  to  these,  but  Martyn  turned  sadly  away, 
vowing    before    God    "  through    grace    to    continue 


t 


7^  HENRY   MARTYN. 

praying  to  the  end  for  these  poor  precious  souls,  and 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  may  be  set  up  here." 

An  accident,  which  might  have  proved  serious, 
occurred  on  the  23rd  of  October,  the  tow-rope 
breaking,  and  the  budgerow  swinging  back  again 
down  stream  at  the  rate  of  seven  miles  an  hour. 
Other  boats  ran  foul  of  her  and  offered  not  the 
slightest  assistance,  but,  finally,  Martyn's  vessel  ran 
aground  and  he  got  ashore  for  a  short  time.  He 
walked  in  the  dark  full  of  communing  with  God  and 
thoughts  of  one  he  loved  in  far-away  England.  He 
calls  it  "  a  delightful  season,"  but  continues  even  here, 
with  all  sorts  of  happy  prospects  and  wishes  in  his  mind, 
to  conjure  up  some  gloomy  views  of  life.  "  The  more 
I  exaggerate  these  ideal  joys,  the  more  do  I  treasure 
up  subjects  of  woe.  Oh  what  vanity  has  God  written 
upon  everything  under  the  sun  ! "  On  his  return  to 
the  boat  that  night,  he  passed  a  number  of  jackals, 
which,  however,  did  not  venture  to  attack  him. 

As  usual  the  day  was  spent  in  the  most  assiduous 
industry,  carefully  perfecting  his  translations  point  by 
point,  and  from  time  to  time  stopping  to  refresh 
himself  with  prayer.  These  studies,  under  sur- 
roundings, too,  not  entirely  favourable  to  study,  were 
very  exhausting,  and  to  a  man  of  his  physical  weak- 
ness, indomitable  application  must  have  been  needed 
to  go  on  day  after  day  in  such  work.  He  was  upborne 
by  the  continual  assurance  that  his  friends  were 
praying  for  him.  "  Rejoice,  my  soul,"  he  says,  *'  in 
the  promises  of  Jehovah.  How  happy  am  I  when,  in 
preparing  for  the  work  of  declaring  His  glory  among 
the  Gentiles,  I  think  that  many  of  the  Lord's  saints 
have  been  this  day  remembering  their  unworthy 
friend     I  feel  as  if  I  could  never  be  tired  with  prayer." 


FACING    THE   ENEMY.  'J'J 

A  trifling  thing  was  sufficient  to  awaken  in  the  heart 
of  this  sincere  and  troubled  soul  thoughts  of  self- 
abasement.  In  looking  among  some  old  letters,  his 
eye  lighted  upon  one  written  by  his  cousin  Thomas 
before  his  conversion.  He  thus  writes  upon  the 
feelings  inspired  thereby  in  a  letter  to  his  sister  : — 
"  There  is  also  a  letter  of  Cousin  Thomas'  addressed 
to  me,  when  I  was  without  Christ,  an  alien  from  the 
commonwealth  of  Israel,  having  no  hope,  and  without 
God  in  the  world.  When  I  think  of  these  things  my 
heart  is  hot  within  me,  and  I  am  constrained  to  say, 
What  hath  God  wrought !  and  what  shall  I  render 
unto  the  Lord  for  all  the  mercies  He  hath  done  unto 
me !  Dear  Cousin  Thomas,  who  knows  what  I  was, 
how  vain,  how  wise  in  my  own  eyes,  will  join  with 
me  in  saying  that  nothing  is  impossible  with  God. 
Almost  excluded  from  the  hope  of  mercy,  even  by 
the  Word  of  God  itself,  He  had  yet  compassion  on 
me,  and  now  to  Him  be  the  praise,  and  to  Him  be 
the  glory  for  ever.  How  does  it  become  me  to  walk 
humbly,  lest  being  puffed  up  I  fall  into  the  condemna- 
tion of  the  devil.  Oh,  my  beloved  sister !  what  hath 
God  done,  and  what  will  He  do  for  us  who  are  His 
children  ?  Oh !  the  electing  love,  the  high  sove- 
reignty, the  resistless  power,  and  the  unfathomable 
depth  of  loving-kindness  and  grace  of  Him  who  hath 
wrought  redemption  for  us.  If  the  grace  of  God  is 
so  sweet  now,  notwithstanding  our  sins  and  confused 
notions,  what  is  there  awaiting  us  in  eternity  ? " 

In  due  time  the  budgerow  and  its  occupants 
arrived  at  Berhampore,  where  Henry  Martyn  stayed 
some  time.  It  will  be  seen  from  the  followinsf 
quotation  from  his  journal,  that  he  had  some  doubts 
as  to  the  tact  he  displayed  in  dealing  with  the  people. 


78  HENRY   MARTYN. 

The  incidents  which  precede  these  reflections  cannot  be 
better  told  than  in  his  own  words.  The  opening  sen- 
tencesrefer  to  the  day  immediately  precedinghis  arrival. 
'^Lord's  Day. — First  part  spent  happily.  In  the 
evening  walked  into  a  village  with  some  tracts.  The 
women  and  children  fled,  and  I  thought  no  oppor- 
tunity occurred  to  see  if  any  could  speak  Hindustani. 
However,  this  was  followed  by  a  great  sense  of  guilt. 
Alas !  while  Satan  is  so  active  in  destroying  their 
souls,  does  it  become  the  servants  of  God  to  be 
lukewarm  ?  Lost  much  time  and  peace  at  night  in 
forming  schemes  about  the  propagation  of  the  Gospel, 
which  had  more  of  romance  and  pride  than  of  wisdom 
and  humility. 

"  Arrived  at  Berhampore,  the  first  station  of  our 
troops.  In  the  hospital,  while  I  was  speaking  to  a 
soldier  who  was  said  to  be  dying,  a  surgeon  came  in. 
I  went  up  to  him  and  made  a  speech,  apologising  for 
entering  the  hospital  without  the  permission  of  the 
surgeon.  After  looking  at  me,  he  said  softly,  '  Bless 
me,  it  is  Martyn.'  I  soon  recognised  my  old  school- 
fellow and  townsman,  John  Marshall.  Thinking  that 
by  his  interest  I  might  be  able  to  preach  to  the  1 50 
sick  men  who  were  there,  I  determined  to  stay  part 
of  the  next  day. 

"  Rose  early  and  was  at  the  hospital  by  daylight, 
but  after  waiting  a  long  time  wandering  through  the 
wards,  hoping  the  men  would  get  up  and  assemble, 
I  went  away  amid  the  sneers  and  titters  of  the  com- 
mon soldiers.  It  is  extraordinary  that  I  seldom  or 
never  meet  with  contempt  on  account  of  religion  except 
from  Englishmen,  and  from  them  invariably.  A 
prophet  is  not  without  honour  save — I  confess  I  feel 
a   sort   of    disgust    towards    my    countrymen.      An 


FACING   THE   ENEMY.  79 

English  saint  is  undoubtedly  one  of  the  greatest 
characters  on  earth.  His  native  solidity  softened  by 
grace  makes  him  venerable  ;  but  the  pride  and  con- 
tempt of  God,  so  remarkable  in  the  bulk  of  the 
nation,  seem  to  be  the  forerunners  of  a  humbling 
stroke.  As  a  Danish  captain  said  here,  'There  is  no 
speaking  to  an  Englishman  now.'  One  of  the 
greatest  crosses  ministers  are  called  to  bear,  as 
my  dear  brother  Cousin  T.  knows,  is  that  we  are 
obliged  to  take  pains  to  make  people  hear  us,  as  I 
was  this  day.  It  is  such  a  struggle  between  a  sense 
of  modesty  and  of  duty  that  I  find  nothing  so  painful. 
I  could  force  my  way  anywhere  to  introduce  a  brother 
minister,  but  for  myself  I  act  with  hesitation  and 
reluctance.  Be  instant,  otit  of  season  ;  how  one's  feel- 
ings revolt  at  it !  Perhaps  you  will  say  I  was  literally 
out  of  season  by  going  when  the  people  were  in  bed  ; 
but  in  this  country  it  is  the  time  for  action.  I  could 
not  expect  them  to  assemble  in  the  heat  of  the  day." 

Although  he  was  up  betimes  in  speaking  to  these 
soldiers  in  the  hospital,  he  greatly  blames  himself  for 
omitting  to  take  a  supply  of  tracts  when  on  another 
evening  he  went  ashore,  and  had  an  opportunity  of 
giving  them  to  the  people.  He  feels  what  most 
would  count  but  a  thoughtless  omission  to  be  a 
deadly  sin,  and  imagines  that  souls  will  rise  up  in 
judgment  against  him  at  the  last  day.  i 

He  is  again  much  humiliated  by  his  inefficiency  in 
the  language,  and  by  finding  that  the  people  to  whom' 
he  offers  tracts  cannot  understand  him.  This  spur^ 
him  on  to  redoubled  activity,  and  he  wearies  his  moon- 
shce  by  his  constant  application  to  translating  the 
Scriptures.  One  day  this  man  asks  rather  a  startling 
question   of  his   master :  "  How   can   you   prove  this 


So  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Book  (putting  his  hand  on  the  Gospels)  to  be  the 
Word  of  God?"  Martyn  goes  ashore  with  him  to 
discuss  the  matter  in  quietness,  and  then  he  found 
that  his  moonshee,  who  was  a  Mohammedan,  beHeved 
it  to  be  given  by  the  command  of  God,  though  not 
Hke  the  Koran,  in  the  very  words,  and  he  contended 
that  the  actual  words  spoken  by  Jesus  were  burnt  by 
the  Jews.  The  conversation  was  prolonged,  and  Martyn 
tried  very  earnestly  to  impress  the  man  with  the  truth, 
but  without  any  apparently  lasting  impression. 

"  My  spirit  felt  comforted  after  this  dispute,"  he 
says,  "  by  simply  looking  to  God  as  One  who  had 
engaged  to  support  His  own  cause,  and  I  saw  it  to  be 
my  part  to  pursue  my  way  through  the  wilderness  of 
this  world,  looking  only  to  that  redemption  which 
daily  draweth  nigh.  The  same  thoughts  continued 
through  the  evening.  I  reflected  while  looking  at  the 
stream  gliding  by,  the  smooth  current  of  which 
showed  its  motion  only  by  the  moon  shining  upon  it, 
that  all  are  alike  carried  down  by  the  stream  of  time, 
that  in  a  few  years  there  will  be  another  generation  of 
Hindus,  Mussulmans,  and  English  in  this  country, 
and  we  are  now  but  just  speaking  to  each  other  as  we 
are  passing  along.  How  should  this  consideration 
quell  txie  tumult  of  anger  and  impatience  when  I 
cannot  convince  men  !  Oh  how  feeble  an  instrument 
must  a  creature  so  shortsighted  be !  How  necessary 
is  it  that  God  should  be  continually  raising  up  new 
instruments,  and  how  easily  He  can  do  it.  'The 
government  is  on  His  shoulders,'  Jesus  is  able  to  bear 
the  weight  of  it ;  therefore  we  need  not  be  oppressed 
with  care  or  fear,  but  a  missionary  is  apt  to  fancy 
himself  an  Atlas." 

His   work,   as   he    made  his   way  up    the   Ganges 


FACING   THE   KNEMV 


8i 


appears  to  be  about  equally  divided  between  transla- 
tion on  board  and  tract  distribution  on  shore.  His  I 
practice  seems  to  have  been  to  rise  very  early  in 
the  morning  while  yet  it  was  cool,  and,  landing 
at  the  nearest  point,  walk  along  the  banks  and 
through  the  villages  speaking  to  the  natives  and  dis- 
tributing, wherever  they  would  accept  them,  leaflets 


•MARTVN    AND    HIS    M00NSHP:E    TRANSLATING    THE    BIBLE   ON    HIS 
VOYAGE   TO    DINAPORE. 

full  of  Christian  teaching.  Then  he  would  return  to 
the  budgerow,  and,  with  his  moonshee,  have  a  long 
day  of  close  application  at  the  translation  of  the 
Scriptures.  In  order  to  make  himself  acquainted 
with  the  language  as  spoken  by  the  common  people, 
he  always  carried  his  note-book  in  his  rambles,  and 
took  down  every  new  word  which  came  to  his  ears  in 


iS2  HENRY    MARTYN. 

conversation.  He  had  certainly  little  encouragement 
in  his  work  on  shore.  The  women  and  children 
invariably  ran  away  at  his  approach,  and  the  men 
were  very  reluctant  to  receive  his  tracts,  when  they 
found  that  he  was  a  Christian. 

He  tells  us  how  he  visited  the  village  of  Rajemahl 
and  explored  its  famous  ruins,  trying  to  get  into  talk 
with  the  Brahmins,  who  quickly,  however,  returned 
his  tract  with  the  remark,  "  That  a  man  who  had  his 
legs  in  two  different  boats,  was  in  danger  of  sinking 
between  them."  Among  the  hill  people,  he  was 
received  a  little  more  kindly,  and  one  of  the  chiefs 
listened  with  rapt  attention,  while  Martyn  spoke 
of  the  place  of  punishment  to  which  God  consigns 
the  wicked  and  impenitent.  He  noticed  here  the 
remarkable  prevalence  of  sacrifices,  and  was  struck 
with  the  kindness  of  the  chief  in  offering  him  wild 
honey,  the  greatest  delicacy  he  had.  One  night  he 
climbed  a  high  hill  to  view  an  ancient  mosque,  and 
there  saw  the  grave  of  a  Mussulman  with  the  lights 
burning  continually  through  the  darkness  over  the 
warrior's  head.  He  received  much  encouragement 
by  finding  himself  understood  by  two  men  to  whom 
he  spoke  upon  eternal  subjects,  but  felt  shortly  after- 
wards a  sense  of  deep  humiliation,  because  the  natives 
could  not  read  and  would  not  come  to  him  for 
conversation  and  tracts.  At  other  times,  he  found 
the  dialects  very  confusing,  and  was  much  dis- 
couraged when  he  had  spoken  for  some  time  only  to 
find  that  scarcely  a  word  had  been  understood. 
"I  was  much  burdened,"  he  writes,  "with  a  conscious- 
ness of  blood-guiltiness  ;  and  though  I  cannot  doubt 
of  my  pardon  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  how  dreadful 
the  reflection  that  any  should  perish  who  might  have 


FACING    TIIK    ENEMY.  83 

been  saved  by  my  exertions  !  Looking  round  this 
country  and  reflecting  upon  its  state  is  enough  to 
overwhehn  the  mind  of  a  minister  or  missionary. 
When  once  my  mouth  is  opened,  how  shall  I  ever 
dare  to  be  silent  ?  " 

Working  hard  with  his  Bible,  we  find  that  he  has 
now  added  Persian  to  the  languages  he  seeks  to 
acquire  for  the  purposes  of  the  Gospel.  This  was 
in  preparation  for  what  was  to  prove  the  greatest 
work  of  his  life.  One  day  he  sat  down  with  an 
old  Hindu  who  commenced  talking  about  his 
experiences  as  a  soldier,  giving  Martyn  hardly  a 
chance  of  introducing  the  subject  next  his  heart 
He  was  evidently  advantaged  by  his  contact  with 
Europeans,  but  when  Martyn  introduced  the  name 
and  work  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  man  abruptly 
closed  the  talk  with,  "  Ah,  that  is  your  master." 
Notwithstanding  this  rebuff,  Martyn  laboured  on, 
entering  the  bazaar  and  giving  away  a  number  of 
tracts.  But  though  he  worked,  he  did  so  desperately 
in  the  teeth  of  increasing  dejection.  There  seemed 
so  little  fruit,  and  the  people  were  in  such  sore  need. 
Again  Martyn  applies  himself  with  an  utter  disregard 
of  his  own  health  and  strength  to  get  the  Word  of 
God  into  the  language  of  the  natives,  and  to  make 
himself  more  qualified  for  preaching  to  them  wherever 
Providence  led  him.  The  pressure  of  responsibility 
was  so  heavy  upon  him  that  he  was  constantly 
blaming  and  judging  himself  for  the  lack  of  capacity 
and  consequent  success  which  he  felt  in  every  effort. 
A  few  words  from  his  journal  will  give  an  accurate 
idea  of  his  emotions  at  this  point.  He  is  wu'iting  at 
the  close  of  a  Sunday  spent  partly  on  the  water  and 
later  in  the  day  on  land. 


84  HENRY  MARTYN. 

"  Generally  in  a  solemn,  tender  spirit.  Spent  the 
first  half  of  the  day  in  reading  the  Scriptures  and 
prayer.  Many  a  word  was  brought  home  with 
abundance  of  consolation  to  my  soul.  '  Though 
I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death 
I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  Thou  art  with  me,  Thy  rod  and 
Thy  staff  they  comfort  me.'  When  do  the  sheep  find 
the  happiness  of  having  a  shepherd  as  much  as  when 
they  are  v/alking  through  a  dark  shadow?  When  Jesus 
lets  me  see  His '  rod  and  staff'  I  am  comforted.  In  the 
afternoon  I  read  some  French  sermons.  Walked  in 
the  evening  to  a  poor  village,  where  I  only  produced 
terror.  One  man  whom  I  at  last  met  told  me  that 
none  could  read  in  the  village  but  a  Brahmin,  and  he 
was  gone  to  another  town.  I  left  two  tracts  for  him, 
and  told  the  man  to  be  sure  and  give  them  to  him  when 
he  came  back.  The  man  was  in  no  small  alarm  at 
this,  but  asked  me  where  I  got  them.  Distressed  at 
times,  I  fear  that  I  am  not  acting  faithfully  in  warning 
those  around  me.  But  the  shortest  way  to  peace  is  to 
pray  for  a  broken  heart  and  submissive  spirit  ;  by 
these  means  my  mind  brightened  up." 

The  budgerow  at  one  place  became  an  object  of 
considerable  attraction  from  the  fact  that  rumours  had 
gone  abroad  that  Martyn  was  distributing  free  copies 
of  the  sacred  book  of  Ramayuna.  The  Brahmins 
crowded  the  deck,  and  one  poor  man,  in  asking  for  a 
copy,  "  prostrated  himself  to  the  earth,  and  placed  his 
forehead  in  the  dust,  at  which,"  says  Martyn,  "  I  felt 
an  indescribable  horror."  He  found  among  the  natives, 
what,  indeed,  might  have  been  expected  then,  a  strong 
detestation  of  their  English  conquerors  ;  one  poor  old 
Brahmin  working  in  the  fields  complained,  "  that  the 
English  had  robbed  them   of   their    country."     Fear 


FACING  tup:  knkmy.  85 

skirted  the  feet  of  the  Enc^Hshman  wherever  he  walked 
on  Indian  soil,  and  this  plainly  showed  Martyn  that 
sufferinc^s  and  opposition  were  in  store  for  him.  But 
his  brave  heart  was  unblenched  at  the  dark  future. 

"  The  disaffection  of  the  people  gave  rise  after- 
wards," he  says,  "  to  many  reflections  in  my  mind  on 
what  may  be  my  future  sufferings  in  this  country, 
but  in  proportion  to  the  apparent  causes  of  depression 
did  my  faith  and  triumph  in  the  Lord  seem  to  rise. 
Come  what  will — let  me  only  be  found  in  the  path  ot 
dut}',  and  nothing  shall  be  wrong.  Be  my  sufferings 
what  they  may,  they  cannot  equal  those  of  my  Lord, 
nor  probably  even  those  of  the  apostles  and  early 
martyrs.  They  '  through  faith  subdued  kingdoms, 
wrought  righteousness,  out  of  weakness  were  made 
strong/  etc.,  and  why  shall  not  I  hope  that  I,  too,  who 
am,  indeed,  '  like  one  born  out  of  due  time,'  shall 
receive  strength  according  to  my  day  ?  " 

The  strange  superstition  of  the  people  w^as  evident 
in  a  striking  manner  to  Martyn  one  day  as  he 
was  stepping  from  the  river  side  on  to  his  budgerow. 
He  thoughtlessly  touched  with  his  stick  a  brass  pot 
in  which  his  native  boatmen  were  cooking  rice  for 
their  meal,  and  at  once  aroused  the  horror  of  the 
people,  who  seized  the  polluted  vessel  and  cast  its 
polluted  contents  into  the  river.  Another  instance, 
to  his  mind,  of  the  widespread  influence  of  sinful  fear. 
He  saw  that  superstition  not  only  darkens  the  mind 
of  its  votaries,  but  enslaves  them  with  perpetual 
terror.  Their  gods  are  a  standing  menace  to  their 
lives,  from  which  they  cannot  get  free. 

Martyn,  looking  upon  Brahminism,  was  not 
deceived  by  any  superficial  respect  for  virtue,  and 
would   have  been    astonished   could   he    have   known 


86 


HENRY   MARTYN. 


that  in  a  later  time  some  of  his  own  countrymen 
would  be  so  infatuated  as  to  renounce  Christianity 
for  the  religion  of  India.  Some  of  the  religious 
customs  of  the  natives  have,  of  course,  since  his  time, 
been  put  down  as  a  disgrace  to  any  country  under 
British  rule,  but  still  the  hideous  character  of  the 
false  religions  of  Brahma  and  Mohammed  are  alike 
expressed  in  the  lives  of  the  Indian  people. 

Martyn  was  spurred  into  a  more  wakeful  zeal  by 
these  surroundings.  "  What  a  wretched  life  shall 
I  lead  if  I  do  not  exert  myself  from  morning  till  night 
in  a  place  where,  through  whole  territories,  I  seem  to 
be  the  only  light" 


l;OAr    'IKAVlil.I.INi 


lllK    IIOOGIILV, 


CHAPTER  VI. 


X 


SORROW  FORGOTTEN  IN  LABOUR. 

And  well  it  is  for  us  our  God  should  feel 
Above  our  secret  throbbing  ;  so  our  prayer 

May  readier  spring  to  Heaven,  nor  spend  its  zeal 
On  cloud-born  idols  of  this  lower  ddr.—John  Keble. 


WHEN  Henry  Martyn  arrived  at  last  at  Dina- 
pore,  his  thoughts  began  to  revert  to  his 
native  land,  and  particularly  to  the  lady  of 
whom  he  took  leave,  when  the  outward  bound 
Union  put  into  Falmouth  for  a  few  days.  He  had 
written  to  Miss  Grenfell,  and  she  had  corresponded 
with  him,  but  he  now  began  to  realise  that  the 
advice  given  to  him  to  take  a  wife  to  the  mission- 
field  was  not  without  reason.  To  any  man  but 
Martyn  this  would  have  presented  no  difficulty, 
especially  where  his  heart  was  so  evidently  attached 
to  one  well  worthy  of  his  confidence,  but  he  was  so  con- 
tinually dissecting  his  motives  and  feelings  with  dis- 

87 


S8  HENRY  MARTYN. 

trust  lest  he  should  be  unfaithful  to  duty,  that  it  was 
some  time  before  he  could  decide  upon  writing  to 
make  a  proposal  for  the  lady  he  loved  to  join  him  in 
India.  There  cannot  be  a  shadow  of  doubt  about  his 
great  affection  for  Miss  Grenfell,  and  yet  the  letter  is 
couched  in  such  grave  and  balanced  terms,  that  it  is 
very  unlike  what  such  communications  are  generally 
supposed  to  be.  He  has  told  her  that  a  mutual 
friend  had  assured  him  that  her  presence  in  India 
would  be  of  advantage  to  the  Mission.  He  then  goes 
on  to  say :  "  I  know  my  own  heart  too  well  not  to  be 
distrustful  of  it,  especially  as  my  affections  were  again 
awakened,  and  accordingly  all  my  labours  and  prayers 
have  been  directed  to  check  their  influence,  that  I 
might  see  clearly  the  path  of  duty.  Though  I  dare  not 
say  that  I  am  under  no  bias,  yet,  from  every  view  of 
the  subject  I  have  been  able  to  take,  after  balancing 
the  advantages  and  disadvantages  that  may  ensue 
to  the  cause  in  which  I  am  engaged,  always  in  prayer 
for  God's  direction,  my  reason  is  fully  convinced  of 
the  expediency,  I  had  almost  said  the  necessity,  of 
having  you  with  me.  It  is  possible  that  my  reason 
may  still  be  obscured  by  passion  ;  let  it  suffice,  how- 
ever, to  say  that  now,  with  a  safe  conscience  and  the 
enjoyment  of  the  Divine  presence,  I  calmly  and 
deliberately  make  the  proposal  to  you." 

This  letter  was  written  on  the  30th  of  July,  1806, 
and  on  the  5th  of  March  in  the  following  year,  Miss 
Grenfell  wrote  declining  the  proposal,  although 
Martyn's  old  friend,  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  had  in 
the  meantime  paid  a  special  visit  to  Marazion,  to  urge 
the  young  missionary's  plea.  The  fuller  facts  respect- 
ing this  incident,  which  exerted  so  great  an  influence 
on  Henry  Martyn,  will  be  found  set  out  in  the  last 


SORROW  FORGOTTEN  IN  LAROUR.       89 

chapter  of  the  present  memoir.  It  will  be  sufficient 
here  to  say,  that  he  was  heart-broken  on  receipt  of  the 
letter  which  forbade  him  to  hope.  He  made  a  pitiful 
note  in  his  journal,  of  the  anguish  he  felt,  how  grief 
and  disappointment  had  thrown  his  soul  into  confusion, 
which  he  subdues,  however,  by  a  resolute  effort  of  will, 
while  feeling  all  the  time  that  he  is  taking  his  "  chas- 
tisement like  the  bullock  unaccustomed  to  the  yoke, 
like  a  wild  bull  in  a  net,  full  of  the  fury  of  the  Lord, 
the  rebuke  of  my  God." 

With  all  his  self-control,  and  possibly  none  of 
them  around  him  knew  what  agony  wrung  his  heart, 
he  suffered  much,  and  for  a  brief  time  his  sky  was 
all  clouded  and  full  of  gloomy  sorrow.  But  it  was 
characteristic  of  Henry  Martyn  that  he  found  relief 
from  his  weight  of  care,  by  concentrating  himself  more 
and  more  upon  the  prosecution  of  that  work  which  he 
held  more  precious  than  anything  else  in  the  world. 
He  chided  himself  for  allowing  any  other  considera- 
tion to  interfere,  and  felt  that  it  was  all  in  the  mercy 
of  God  that  his  feet  had  been  turned  aside  from  a 
path,  which,  humanly  speaking,  was  so  full  of  promise 
of  happiness.  There  is  a  real  pathetic  sincerity  in 
the  following  words,  from  a  letter  he  wrote  to  his 
cousin,  thereupon. 

"  At  first,  like  Jonah,  I  was  more  grieved  at  the  loss 
of  my  gourd,  than  at  the  sight  of  the  many  perishing 
Ninevehs  all  round  me  ;  but  now  my  earthly  woes  and 
earthly  attachments  seem  to  be  absorbing  in  the 
vast  concern  of  communicating  the  Gospel  to  these 
nations.  After  this  last  lesson  from  God  on  the 
vanity  Oi'  creature  love,  I  feel  desirous  to  be  nothing, 
to  have  nothing,  to  ask  for  nothing,  but  what  He 
gives.      So   remarkably  and    so   repeatedly  has    He 


90  HENRY   MARTYN. 

baffled  my  schemes  of  earthly  comfort  that  I  am 
forced  at  last  to  believe  His  determination  to  be, 
that  I  should  live  in  every  sense  a  stranger  and  pilgrim 
on  this  earth." 

And  this  "  stranger  and  pilgrim  "  he  became  hence- 
forth, carrying  about  with  him  a  wounded  heart,  but 
never  more  did  the  question  of  a  human  love  per- 
manently distress  him.  He  resumed  a  correspond- 
ence with  Miss  Grenfell,  in  which  he  told  her  of  his 
work  and  spiritual  experiences,  and  now  and  again 
flashes  up  the  old  love  with  its  undying  fire.  But 
he  had  taken  the  position  as  the  will  of  his  God,  and 
with  a  resignation  which  He  alone  could  grant  to 
the  human  will,  Henry  Martyn  started  to  walk  the 
rest  of  the  way  alone. 

When  once  he  had  settled  in  his  new  sphere,  the 
work  of  translation  began  again  in  greater  earnest. 
He  had  been  labouring  hard  at  Hindustani,  and  was 
discouraged  to  find  that  within  the  limits  of  Behar, 
he  could  only  communicate  with  the  natives  in 
Beharee.  While  he  obtained  no  doubt  useful  assist- 
ance from  his  pundits,  he  got  from  them  but  scant 
encouragement,  and  was  told  that  the  language 
changed  every  four  miles,  as  the  dialects  were  innum- 
erable. Characteristically  he  met  the  announcement 
with  unremitting  exertion  ;  a  single  day's  work  will 
show  his  application,  in  which  the  whole  morning  was 
spent  in  Sanscrit  study,  the  afternoon  in  Behar  dialects, 
and  the  night,  far  into  the  small  hours,  with  the  trans- 
lation of  the  Parables  into  the  vernacular.  In  one  of 
his  letters  home,  he  admitted  that  he  was  working  at 
high  pressure.  "  I  fag  as  hard  as  ever  we  did  for  our 
degrees  at  Cambridge.  Such  a  week  of  labour  I  never 
passed,  not  excepting  even  the  last  week  before  going 


SORROW   FORGOTTEN    IN    LAP.OUR.  91 

into  the  Senate  House.  I  have  read  and  corrected 
the  MSS.  copies  of  my  Hindustani  Testament  so 
often  that  my  eyes  ache.  The  heat  is  terrible,  often 
at  ninety-eight  degrees  ;  the  nights  insupportable." 

In  the  midst  of  this  toil,  he  did  not  fail  to  discuss, 
where  the  opportunity  presented  itself,  the  truths  of 
the  Christian  religion  with  his  moonshee,  who,  in 
addition  to  a  somewhat  fiery  frame  of  mind,  had  all 
the  Oriental  aptitude  for  cavilling  at  nice  points  and 
exhibiting  an  ignorant  opposition  to  the  faith  for 
which  he  must  have  seen  that  his  master  would 
willingly  sacrifice  himself 

Thus  when  they  are  reading  together  the  Gospel 
of  St.  John  at  the  third  chapter,  this  man  could  not 
understand  how  Jesus  Christ  could  represent  Himself 
as  being  in  two  places  at  one  time,  being  "come  down 
from  heaven  and  yet  as  the  Son  of  Man  which  is  in 
heaven."  When,  however,  they  were  translating  the 
Epistle  of  St.  John,  still  more  did  the  learned  heathen 
marvel  at  the  sayings  which  to  his  master  were  full 
of  comforting  meanings,  but  to  the  poor  moonshee 
seemed  so  much  jargon  for  which  he  had  only 
contempt  He  would  not  believe  that  the  angels 
should  separate  the  evil  from  the  good,  and  stated  with 
much  indignation,  "  That  there  was  no  such  thing  in 
his  Shaster ;  but  that  at  the  end  of  the  world  the  sun 
would  come  so  near,  as  first  to  burn  all  the  men,  then 
the  mountains,  then  the  deltas  (inferior  gods),  then 
the  waters  ;  then  God,  reducing  Himself  to  the  size  of 
a  thumb  nail,  would  swim  on  the  leaf  of  a  peepul 
tree." 

Patiently  Martyn  endeavoured  to  explain  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Scriptures,  but  with  little  success.  He  felt 
much  disappointment  in  his  want  of  facility  in  the 


92  HENRY    MARTYN. 

language;  for  while  the  Asiatic  talked  on  volubly,  he 
could  only  get  in  a  word  here  and  there  in  reply.  In 
argument  he  found  it,  therefore,  difficult  to  establish 
a  position,  and  to  enforce  the  true  meaning  of 
the  texts  in  dispute.  Falling  back  from  logic  he 
strove  to  impress  the  moonshee  by  the  weight  of  a 
personal  experience,  and  assured  him  that  his  "  chief 
enjoyment,  even  now  on  earth,  was  the  enjoyment  of 
God's  presence  and  a  growing  conformity  to  Him, 
and,  therefore,"  he  says,  "  I  asked  what  motives  could 
the  promise  of  houris,  ghilmans,  green  meadows,  and 
eating  and  drinking  in  paradise,  afford  me.  My  soul 
sweetly  blessed  the  Lord  in  secret  that  this  testimony 
was  true,  and  oh,  what  a  change  must  have  been 
wrought  in  me  !  " 

Trained  as  this  Mohammedan  had  been  in  the  Koran, 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  presented  to  him  an 
insuperable  difficulty.  He  revolted  from  the  supposi- 
tion that  God  could  have  a  Son.  At  the  end  of  a 
conversation  on  this  head,  Martyn  ventured  to  suggest 
that  the  Koran  might  after  all  be  false,  which  made 
him  exceedingly  angry,  and  also  filled  his  master  with 
misgivings  as  to  whether  indeed  he  had  not  defeated 
his  own  purpose  by  pressing  him  on  such  a  point.  This 
conclusion,  at  any  rate,  he  came  to  from  the  experi- 
ence of  these  incidents,  that  "  if  any  qualification 
seems  necessary  to  a  missionary  in  India,  it  is  wisdom 
— operating  in  the  regulation  of  the  temper,  and  the 
due  improvement  of  opportunities."  A  reflection 
which  possibly  would  apply  with  equal  force  to  the 
heathen  at  home. 

When  he  had  fairly  begun  his  official  duties  as 
chaplain  at  Dinapore,  he  met  with  the  old  trouble  in 
the    English    society  there  which    had    made    him 


SORROW  FOKOOTTEN  IN  LAROUR 


93 


SO  unpopular  in  Calcutta.  Once  more  the  ofTcnce  of 
tlie  Cross  moved  many  of  his  hearers  to  dispute  his 
teaching,  and  in  discharging  his  sacred  offices  among 
them  he  became  very  unpopular.  His  words  were 
objected  to,  his  methods  severely  criticised,  and 
opposition  to  his  zeal  openly  expressed.  But  if  the 
Dinapore    congregation    fancied    that    such   a  course 


1  . :  ■  /    /     .   .  •  1 


'V^'//>*S>.,,  -»^yy,}^^„^-,.. 


VJ^^' 


/ ^ 


•i^i^i^^,,  Ui^y,^  u^u'i^t 
"rfU^'":  ''"ir" 


rACSI.MILE    OK    MARIYN  S    MS.    OF    NEW    TESTAMENT. 


would  intimidate  their  young  clergyman,  they  had 
entirely  mistaken  their  man.  A  strong  adverse  wind 
of  persecution  never  failed  to  make  Martyn  pursue 
more  bravely  his  way  of  duty.  While  a  most 
merciless  critic  of  himself,  he  would  allow  no  one  to 
hinder  the  good  work  to  which,  in  God's  name,  he 
had  set  his  hand.     Over  every  baffling  wave  of  con- 


94  HENRY   MARTYN. 

tention  he  rose  to  push  forward.  Even  the  want  of 
apparent  success  was  not  going  to  daunt  a  heart  fully 
assured  of  a  Divine  leading. 

"  Let  me  labour  for  fifty  years,  amidst  scorn  and 
without  seeing  one  soul  converted,  still  it  shall  not  be 
worse  for  my  soul  in  eternity,  nor  even  worse  for  it  in 
time. 

"  Though  the  heathen  rage,"  he  exclaims  with 
almost  exultation,  "  and  the  English  people  imagine 
a  vain  thing,  the  Lord  Jesus  who  controls  all  events 
is  my  Friend,  my  Master,  my  God,  my  All.  On 
this  Rock  of  Ages,  on  which  I  feel  my  foot  to 
rest,  my  head  is  lifted  up  above  mine  enemies  round 
about  me,  and  I  sing,  yea,  I  will  sing  praises  unto 
the  Lord." 

Strange  to  say,  the  rooted  idea,  born  of  a  guilty 
instinct,  was  that  if  Henry  Martyn  preached  to  the 
natives,  it  would  interfere  with  the  safe  government 
of  the  country.  This  feeling  was  increased  by  the 
unexpected  arrival  of  twelve  thousand  Mahratta 
troops  on  this  station,  and  any  attempt  on  the  part  of 
the  new  chaplain  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  them  was 
looked  upon  with  alarm.  Such  were  the  foolish 
hindrances  to  which  he  was  constantly  subject,  the 
English  looking  askance  at  him,  the  natives  eyeing 
him  with  suspicion  as  he  passed  by  in  his  palanquin, 
so  little  did  they  know  that  the  thin,  w^m-faced 
missionary  was  burning  with  a  Christ-like  love  for 
their  souls.  However,  like  not  a  few  other  faithful 
witnesses  under  like  discouragements  from  the  elders, 
he  turned  to  the  children.  He  had,  in  coming  to 
Dinapore,  found  the  schools  in  a  most  unsatisfactory 
condition,  and  he  determined  to  increase  them  in 
number  and  efficiency.     He  saw  truly  that  a  Christian 


SORROW    FORGOTTEN    IN    LAT.OUR.  95 

education  would  in  time  loosen  the  fetters  of  super- 
stition. In  writing  to  his  friend  Mr.  Corrie  he  puts 
this  plainly  : — "  I  should  like  to  hear  of  a  Christian 
school  established  at  Benares,  it  will  be  like  the  ark 
of  God  brought  into  the  house  of  Dagon.  ...  If 
nothing  else  comes  of  your  schools,  one  thing  I  feel 
assured  of — that  the  children  will  grow  up  ashamed 
of  the  idolatry  and  other  customs  of  their  country." 

With  much  toil  he  managed  to  set  this  important 
work  going  well,  five  of  the  schools  at  Dinapore 
being  supported  out  of  his  own  pocket.  But  ere  long 
difficulties  arose  and  impeded  his  efforts.  A  rumour 
was  set  abroad  that  the  new  chaplain  was  going  by 
force  to  make  these  native  children  all  Christians,  and 
as  a  result  a  panic  seized  the  settlement,  crowds  of 
people  gathered  about  the  Patna  school,  from  which 
both  teachers  and  children  had  hurriedly  fled.  On 
coming  to  give  explanation  and  restore  order,  the 
heart  of  Martyn  was  stirred  with  indignation  at 
seeing  one  of  the  grey-headed  servants  of  the  East 
India  Company  openly  professing  Mohammedanism, 
and  flaunting  his  apostasy  by  having  had  a  mosque 
specially  built  for  him,  the  lights  of  which  at  night 
reminded  the  natives  of  his  fall  from  Christianity. 
Although  the  offender  held  high  office  in  the  service 
the  young  missionary  found  him  out  and  delivered 
his  own  soul  by  openly  rebuking  him  for  his  sinful 
conduct.  After  this  straight  talk  with  a  renegade,  he 
soon  put  an  end  to  the  disturbance  and  restored  the 
schools  to  their  former  condition. 

^~Trr~ffenry  Martyn  the  native  population  of  India 
ever  had  a  fast  and  faithful  friend.  He  saw  with 
grief  the  oppressions  to  which  they  were  subject,  and 
did    all    in    his    power   to   alleviate    their    burdens. 


96  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Doubtless  this  sympathy  with  them  was  one  of  the 
reasons  why  he  was  so  unpopular  with  their  military 
and  civil  masters.  He  took  his  stand  upon  the 
principles  of  the  New  Testament  and  denounced  the 
conventional  infraction  thereof  On  one  occasion 
his  servant  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  a  Cotual,  the 
head  of  a  band  of  murderous  robbers,  and  Martyn, 
sending  word  to  the  man  to  offer  nothing  for  his 
release,  forthwith  set  out  for  Buxan  to  insist  upon  it. 
He  bearded  the  lion  in  his  den.  The  sufferings  of 
many  of  the  victims  of  this  freebooter  called  for 
redress,  and  the  heroic  young  cleric,  who  had  been 
threatened  with  assassination  on  the  way  by  the  hands 
of  swarms  of  the  robber's  adherents,  did  not  hesitate 
to  rescue  his  servant  and  oppose  the  continuance 
of  this  man's  villainy.  "  I  thought  it,  however,"  he 
quietly  enters  in  his  journal,  "a  duty  I  owed  to 
God,  to  him,  to  the  poor  oppressed  natives,  and  to  my 
country,  to  exert  myself  in  this  business,  and  I  felt 
authorised  to  risk  my  life." 

On  his  way  to  Buxan  he  walked  early  in  the  morning 
one  day  to  a  pagoda  where  he  saw  an  aged  Brahmin 
reading  the  sacred  books  and  expounding  them  to  a 
group  of  listening  natives.  He  was  very  much  struck 
with  the  sight.  The  old  man  sat  in  the  shade  of  a  huge 
banyan  tree ;  he  presented  a  most  venerable  appearance, 
his  hair  and  long  beard  being  white  as  snow.  He 
was  dressed  in  the  garments  of  his  sacred  order,  and 
upon  his  head  was  a  garland  of  beautiful  flowers. 
By  his  side  sat  a  servant  of  the  Rajah,  and  Martyn, 
after  waiting  a  long  time  listening  to  the  old  man's 
monotonous  singing  of  the  Sanscrit  verses  of  the 
Huribuns,  began  to  ask  a  few  questions,  and  soon  was 
fully  conversing  with  the  Brahmin  upon  the  way  of 


SORROW  FORGOTTEN  IN  LABOUR.       97 

salvation  throiifrh  the  atonement  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  It  is  significant  that  the  old  man  at  the  close 
of  the  interview  expressed  a  sincere  pleasure  in 
meeting  with  an  Englishman  who  cared  everything 
for  religion. 

One  of  the  most  precious  relics  of  Henry  Martyn 
is  a  number  of  volumes  of  his  manuscript  Persian 
New  Testament.  Of  the  open  page  of  one  of  these 
we  have  given  a  reproduction  by  the  kindness  of  the 
Church  Missionary  Society.  The  friend  who  presented 
them  to  the  museum  in  Salisbury  Square  states  on  a 
brief  record  accompanying  the  volumes  that  they  were 
purchased  by  him  at  a  second-hand  book  shop  in 
Birmingham.  How  these  valuable  manuscripts  trav- 
elled thither  it  is  impossible  to  divine,  but  it  must  be 
a  cause  of  much  thankfulness  to  every  reader  ot 
Martyn's  life  to  know  that  they  are  now  carefully 
preserved. 


^      S+HvRBtT 


CHAPTER  VII. 


THE  WORD   OF   GOD   FOR   THE   PEOPLE. 


Let  me  no  more  my  comfort  draw 

From  my  frail  hold  of  Thee, 
In  this  alone  rejoice  with  awe, 

Thy  mighty  grasp  of  n\Q.^JoIm  Henry  Newma?!. 

IT  is  one  of  those  inscrutable  providences  of  the 
Almighty,  teaching  us  how  incapable  we  are  of 
judging  His  wisdom,  that  trial  and  disappoint- 
ment are  often  the  lot  of  those  of  His  witnesses 
who  are  constitutionally  most  sensitive  to  feel  them. 
The  progress  of  this  pilgrim  confessor  of  the  faith  is 
a  striking  illustration  of  this.  His  condition,  if  we 
may  really  see  a  true  reflection  of  himself  in  his  own 
words,  was  that  of  restless  reaching  forward  to  achieve 
more  victories  for  the  Cross,  a  sort  of  sanctified 
impatience  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  the  name  and 
service  of  his  God.  And  yet,  humanly  speaking,  for 
these  efforts  he  was  altogether  unfit,  and  again  and 
again  discouragements  and  disparagements,  both  with- 
out and  within,  came  to  beat  him  wingless  to  the  earth'. 


TITK    WORD   OF   GOD    FOR   THE    PEOPLE.  99 

only  to  rise  again.  Henry  Martyn,  probably,  from 
the  hour  of  congratulation  when  he  won  his  position 
as  senior  wrangler  at  Cambridge,  never  knew  what  it 
was  to  suffer  the  praise  of  man.  Like  the  great 
apostle,  whose  career  had  such  an  enthralling  interest 
for  him,  he,  too,  was  an  unappreciated  messenger  of 
God,  receiving  the  opprobrium  of  his  own  people,  and 
the  contempt  of  the  Gentiles,  for  whom  he  gave  away 
his  very  life  in  love. 

The  history  of  Martyn  at  Dinapore  was  not  unlike 
that  at  Calcutta,  the  Europeans  holding  aloof,  the 
natives  shy  and  suspicious,  and  the  work  generally 
uphill  and  difficult.  His  services  were  sometimes  not 
attended  by  a  single  European,  and  he  was  thankful 
to  get  a  few  native  women  to  hear  him  explain  in 
Hindustani  the  Word  of  the  Lord.  All  this  threw  him 
back  upon  himself,  or  rather  into  the  arms  oi^  his  God, 
for  his  journals  and  letters  at  this  time  show  how 
truly  in  his  case  tribulation  worketh  patience,  and 
trials,  sifting  self  from  his  aims,  gave  increase  of  faith 
and  hope.  His  mind  reverts  to  "  that  dear  saint  of 
God,  David  Brainerd,  a  man  truly  after  my  own 
heart."  Then  would  come  occasional  gleams  across 
the  darkness,  enough  to  show  him  that  he  was  in  the 
right  way.  A  poor  man  in  the  hospital,  to  whom  he 
had  been  ministering  as  was  his  wont,  and  who 
evidently  knew  something  of  his  surroundings  and 
work,  greatly  surprised  Martyn  one  day  by  telling 
him  that  if  he  made  an  acquisition  of  but  one  convert 
in  his  whole  life  it  would  be  a  rich  reward,  and  that 
he  was  taking  the  only  possible  way  to  this  end.  He 
was  also  much  encouraged  when  one  of  the  officers 
"  who  from  the  first  had  treated  me  with  the  kindness 
of  a  father,"  became,  through  his  ministry,  a  decided 


100  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Christian.  And  he  tells  us  with  what  joy  he  had 
communion  of  spirit  with  a  few  of  the  men  in  the 
ranks,  who  from  this  time  came  to  read  the  Bible 
with  him. 

With  his  pundit,  he  had  little  encouragement  in  the 
work  of  understanding  spiritually,  although  much 
help  in  translating  intellectually,  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
Martyn  was  certainly  faithful  with  this  rather  flippant 
Hindu,  and  warned  him  of  the  responsibility  he 
incurred  in  being  brought  into  contact  with  the  truths 
of  the  Gospel.  "  I  told  him,"  says  he,  "  that  now  he 
had  heard  the  word  of  Christ,  he  would  not  be  tried  at 
the  last  day  by  the  same  law  as  the  other  Brahmins 
and  Hindus  who  had  never  heard  it,  but  in  the  same 
manner  as  myself  and  other  Christians,  and  that  I 
feared,  therefore,  that  he  was  in  great  danger.  He 
said,  as  usual,  that  there  were  many  ways  to  God  ;  but 
I  replied  that  there  was  no  other  Saviour  than  Christ, 
because  no  other  had  bought  men  with  His  blood, 
and  suffered  their  punishment  for  them.  This 
effectively  silenced  him  on  that  head." 

His  moonshee  was  also  continually  battling  with 
him  upon  the  superiority  of  Mohammed  to  Christ. 
As  a  rule  this  heated  Mohammedan  discussed  the 
most  trifling  details  with  needless  ardour,  but 
occasionally  from  his  mouth  would  fall  a  remark 
worth  recording,  as  expressing  his  estimate  of  the 
strength  of  his  own  religious  faith,  and  the  futility  of 
the  Christian  religion  in  his  eyes.  One  day  after 
Martyn  had  been  teaching  him  the  doctrines  of 
Christ,  and  showing  him  their  superiority  over  other 
religions,  we  are  told  that  "  he  spoke  of  the  ineffectual 
endeavours  of  man  to  root  out  Islamism  as  a  proof  of 
its   being  from    God,  and   objected   to   Christianity 


THE   WORD   OF   GOD    FOR   THE   PEOPIJC.         lOI 

because  there  were  no  difficulties  in  it — devotion  only 
once  a- week,  prayer  or  no  prayer  just  when  or  where 
we  pleased,  eating  with  or  without  washing,  and  that 
in  general  it  was  a  life  of  carelessness  with  us."  Such 
an  impression  of  course  he  could  not  have  received 
from  the  conduct  of  his  master,  but  it  was  the  result  of 
observation,  which  made  then  in  India  is  made  still 
nearer  home,  that  Christians,  so-called,  find  it  easy  to 
profess  but  hard  to  practise  the  self-sacrifice  and 
holiness  which  the  New  Testament  enjoins. 

A  learned  Brahmin  called  upon  the  pundit  one 
day,  and  copied  out  carefully  the  Ten  Command- 
ments which  Martyn  had  recently  rendered  into 
Sanscrit,  as  he  intended  to  keep  them  all  most 
strictly,  so  that  by  such  means  he  might  find  union 
with  God.  But  he  had  one  comment  to  make  on 
going  away.  "  There  was  nothing,"  he  said,  "  com- 
manded to  be  done,  only  things  to  be  abstained  from, 
and  if  he  should  be  taken  ill  in  the  bazaar  or  while 
laughing,  and  die,  and  through  fear  of  transgressing 
the  third  commandment  should  not  mention  the  very 
name  of  God,  should  he  go  to  heaven  ?  " 

With  a  like  ignorance,  a  Ranee  or  Indian  princess, 
to  whom  he  had  sent  a  copy  of  his  Hindustani 
Testament,  begged  to  be  informed  what  she  had  to 
do  for  the  book  to  be  of  advantage  to  her,  whether 
to  pray  or  to  make  a  salaam  or  bow  to  it  ?  To  this 
enquiry  Martyn  speedily  replied,  adding  such  advice 
as  should  open  the  eyes  of  this  darkened  daughter  of 
India  to  understand  the  truths  of  the  Word  of  God. 
It  would  seem,  however,  that  his  instruction  had  not 
been  very  successful,  for,  after  a  time,  when  he  heard 
again  from  the  Ranee,  it  was  to  request  him  to  use  his 
private  influence  on  her  behalf  with  one  of  the  judges 


102  HENRY    MARTYN. 

before  whom  she  had  a  cause  to  plead.  "  I  felt  hurt," 
he  writes,  "  at  considering  how  low  a  sovereign  prin- 
cess must  have  fallen  to  make  such  a  request,  but  lost 
no  time  in  apprising  her  that  our  laws  were  perfectly 
distinct  from  the  Divine  laws ;  and  that,  therefore,  it  was 
no  affair  of  mine  as  she  seemed  to  suppose  it  to  be." 

Amid  his  multifarious  duties  Martyn  found  time  to 
study  the  writings  of  the  Deists,  which  were  so  com- 
mon in  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  and  especially  did 
he  seek  by  the  study  of  Leland  to  refute  the  teaching 
of  the  Koran,  which  everywhere  met  him  as  the  scrip- 
tures of  the  Mohammedans.  There  is  little  doubt 
that  he  would  have  proved  a  valiant  champion  of 
revealed  truth,  his  wide  reading  and  dialectic  powers 
showing  much  to  his  advantage  in  dealing  with  these 
learned  Hindus,  and  might  have  been  still  more 
effective,  had  he  been  at  home,  in  refuting  the  sceptics 
of  the  day.  It  was  one  of  his  characteristics  that, 
with  all  his  culture,  he  held  with  steadfast  loyalty  to 
the  simplicity  of  Christian  faith,  and  would  accept  no 
converts  until  they  had  given  satisfactory  evidence  of 
a  vital  change  of  heart  and  life.  His  friend,  Mr.  Corrie, 
begged  his  advice  on  several  points  of  perplexities 
with  which  he  had  to  deal  in  baptising  those  who  pro- 
fessed Christianity,  and  his  answer  was  explicit,  that 
no  mere  intellectual  acceptance  of  Christianity  would 
justify  the  admission  of  those  who  were  evidently 
strangers  to  its  power. 

His  translations  at  this  time  were  becoming  more 
and  more  a  source  of  happiness  to  him  ;  shut  up  in 
Dinapore,  where  news  from  the  outer  world  came 
seldom,  he  felt  he  was  undisturbed  in  his  study  of  the 
Word  of  God.  He  had  translated  the  Prayer-Book 
into  Hindustani,  and  also  produced  a  most  useful  little 


Tirr:  word  of  r.on  for  ttff  ffoplr      103 

commentary  upon  the  Parables,  written  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  become  easily  understood  and  appreci- 
ated by  the  people.  He  felt  perfectly  happy  in  these 
pursuits,  only  longing  for  the  time  when  he  could  be 


A    PUiNDIT. 


free  to  go  more  amongst  the  natives  and  preach  the 
Gospel  in  the  very  midst  of  their  idolatry.  On  his 
visit  to  Patna  his  heart  burned  to  rush  into  the  streets, 
Bible  in  hand, uttering  the  Words  of  Life,  but  he  decided 


104  HENRY   IMARTYN. 

reluctantly  to  wait  until  the  schools,  and  most  of  all 
the  dissemination  of  the  Scriptures  in  their  own 
tongue,  should  pave  a  way. 

A  very  urgent  request  reached  him  one  day  from 
his  old  friend,  Mr.  Brown  of  Calcutta,  urging  him  to 
retire  from  Dinapore,  and  become  the  minister  of  the 
Mission  Church  of  the  Presidency.  In  many  respects 
the  prospect  might  have  attractions,  but  Martyn 
instantly  rejected  any  proposition  which  would  hinder 
his  great  mission  to  the  poor  benighted  people  of 
India.  He  cared  nothing  for  publicity  or  fame  ;  God 
had  weaned  him  from  this  infirmity  of  noble  youth, 
and  he  preferred  to  remain  where  he  was.  Thus  he 
writes  in  his  journal  on  this  subject : — 

"  The  precious  Word  is  now  my  only  study,  in  the 
work  of  translation.  Though  in  a  manner  buried  to 
the  world — neither  seeing  nor  seen  by  Europeans — 
the  time  flows  on  here  with  great  rapidity;  it  seems  as 
if  life  would  be  gone  before  anything  is  done  or  even 
before  anything  is  begun.  I  sometimes  rejoice  that 
I  am  not  twenty-seven  years  of  age ;  and  that,  unless 
God  should  order  it  otherwise,  I  may  double  the  num- 
ber in  constant  and  successful  labour.  If  not,  God 
has  many,  many  more  instruments  at  His  command, 
and  I  shall  not  cease  from  my  happiness,  and  scarcely 
from  my  work,  by  departing  into  another  world.  Oh 
who  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ !  Neither 
death  nor  life,  I  am  persuaded.  Oh  let  me  feel  my 
security,  that  I  may  be,  as  it  were,  already  in  heaven, 
that  I  may  do  all  my  work  as  the  angels  do  theirs, 
and  oh  let  me  be  ready  for  every  work  ! — be  ready  to 
leave  this  delightful  solitude  or  remain  in  it — to  go 
out  or  go  in — to  stay  or  depart,  just  as  the  Lord  shall 
appoint." 


TIIK   WORD   OF   COD    FOR   THE    1M-:0PLK.        I05 

The  serenity  of  spirit  which  is  breathed  by  these 
words  was  preserved  amid  increasing  trials  of  patience. 
To  help  him  in  his  work  of  translation,  Mirza,  a  gifted 
Hindustani  scholar,  and  an  Arabian,  Sabat,  had 
recently  arrived.  The  former  appears  to  have  been 
of  much  service,  but  Sabat  proved  a  very  thorn  in  his 
side.  He  seems  to  have  been  well  recommended,  but 
it  soon  became  apparent  that  he  had  no  knowledge 
of  the  spirit  of  Christ,  though  outwardly  professing 
the  faith  ;  indeed  his  fiery  and  untamed  Arab  blood 
was  continually  breaking  out  into  such  fury  that 
Martyn  found  his  own  house  well-nigh  unbearable. 
At  times  these  exhibitions  of  temper  were  so  violent 
that  his  master  had  to  fly  for  refuge  elsewhere  ;  and 
no  part  of  this  history  shows  more  clearly  the  long- 
suffering  of  this  patient  man  than  does  his  forbearance 
with  his  chief  moonshee.  "  Sabat,"  says  he  in  a  letter, 
"  instead  of  comforting  and  encouraging  me  in  my 
difficulties  and  trials,  aggravates  my  pain  ; "  and  yet  he 
bore  with  him,  partly  because  he  felt  the  assistance  of 
Sabat  of  such  value  in  his  translation  of  the  New 
Testament  into  Persian,  and  partly  because  he  was 
loath  to  cast  off  one  who  had  evidently  the  Christian 
lesson  yet  to  learn.  On  one  occasion  this  hot-headed 
Arabian  actually  went  so  far  out  of  spite  as  to  write  a 
letter  to  the  British  Resident  speaking  in  most  dis- 
respectful terms  of  his  master.  This  letter  was 
promptly  forwarded  to  Martyn  in  order  that  he  might 
deal  with  the  offender.  He  at  once  summoned  Sabat 
into  his  presence,  and  placing  the  letter  in  his  hand, 
bade  him  to  read  it  aloud.  For  once  the  man  was 
utterly  cowed,  and  trembled  before  the  quiet  dignity 
of  the  master  whom  he  had  wronged.  Instead  of 
reading  it  he  fell  at  Martyn's  feet  begging  his  forgive- 


I06  HENRY    MARTYN. 

ness,  which  was  most  readily  granted,  with  the  com- 
forting assurance  that  he  had  not  read  the  letter 
himself,  and  it  might  be  destroyed.  Unhappily,  this 
man,  who  had  the  unique  advantage  of  so  much  of 
Martyn's  society  and  teaching,  in  the  end  apostatised. 

A  letter  from  England  came  to  Martyn's  hands 
with  news  which  well-nigh  broke  his  heart.  From 
the  collapse  of  his  hopes  as  regards  Miss  Lydia 
Grenfell  he  seems  to  have  recovered,  or  at  any  rate  to 
have  become  so  absorbed  in  his  work  that  he  was 
unconscious  of  its  pain.  But  now  in  this  letter  he 
heard  that  his  eldest  sister  was  dead.  She  had  corre- 
sponded with  him  up  to  a  short  time  before  her  death, 
and  some  words  in  her  last  letter  made  him  uneasy 
on  account  of  her  health.  He  loved  her  greatly,  and 
since  bidding  her  good-bye  he  had  prayed  continu- 
ously for  her  conversion  ;  and  in  the  letter  which 
brought  him  the  tidings  of  her  sudden  decease,  he 
had  the  comforting  intelligence  that  she  died  in  the 
Lord.  But  it  was  a  shock  to  him,  and  he  shows  how 
keenly  he  felt  the  severance  when  he  says  in  a  letter 
to  his  friend  Mr.  Brown  about  it :  "  Human  nature 
bleeds — her  departure  has  left  this  world  a  frightful 
blank  to  me,  and  I  feel  not  the  smallest  wish  to  live, 
except  there  be  some  work  assigned  for  me  to  do  in 
the  Church  of  God." 

Overwork,  anxiety  of  mind,  this  painful  loss,  and 
disregard  of  the  precautions  as  to  health,  so  necessary 
in  such  a  climate,  again  told  upon  Martyn,  and  he  rose 
one  morning  with  such  pain  and  fever  that  he  fainted, 
and  slowly  recovering  consciousness,  he  suffered  so 
that  he  felt  his  hour  had  come.  "  Lying  in  pain 
which  made  me  almost  breathless,  I  turned  my 
thoughts   to  God  ;    and,  oh,  praise  be  to  His  grace 


THE   WORD   OF    COD   FOR   THE    FKOrLE.         I07 

and  love,  I  felt  no  fear,  but  I  prayed  earnestly  that 
I  might  have  a  little  relief,  to  set  my  house  in  order 
and  make  my  will.  I  also  thought  with  pain  of 
leaving  the  Persian  gospels  unfinished.  By  means  of 
some  ether,  the  Lord  gave  me  ease,  and  I  made  my 
will.  The  day  was  spent  in  great  weakness,  but  my 
heart  was  often  filled  with  the  sweetest  peace  and 
gratitude  for  the  precious  things  God  hath  done  for 
me." 

But  the  worker  is  immortal  till  his  work  be  done, 
and  God  had  appointed  for  Martyn  a  few  more  years 
of  travail  and  service,  of  endurance  for  His  name's 
sake,  ere  he  reached  the  rest  of  eternal  peace. 

In  April,  1809,  ^^e  summons  came  for  Martyn  to 
leave  Dinapore  and  take  the  chaplaincy  of  the  troops 
at  Cawnpore,  a  name  which  has  had  an  awful 
notoriety  since  then.  His  journey  thither  was  pursued 
with  such  eager  haste,  that  it  was  a  marvel  that 
Martyn  reached  there  alive.  He  admits  himself  that 
the  travelling  from  Allahabad  was  distressing  beyond 
description.  He  was  borne  in  a  fainting  condition  in 
his  palanquin  half  dead,  "  the  wind  blowing  flames" 
and  his  bearers  so  overcome  that  it  took  six  hours  to 
accomplish  the  last  twelve  miles.  Mrs.  Sherwood, 
who  was  privileged  to  be  the  faithful  and  gentle 
friend  of  INIartyn  at  this  critical  period  of  his  life,  has 
left  on  record  an  account  of  his  condition  when,  on 
reaching  Cawnpore,  he  appeared  at  her  door. 

"The  month  of  April  in  the  upper  provinces  of 
Hindustan  is  one  of  the  most  dreadful  months  for 
travelling  throughout  the  year  ;  indeed,  no  European 
at  that  time  can  remove  from  place  to  place  but  at  the 
hazard  of  his  liie.  But  Mr.  Martyn  had  that  anxiety 
to  be   in   the  work  which   his   Heavenly  Father  had 


I08  HENRY   MARTY N. 

given  him  to  do,  that,  notwithstanding  the  violent 
heat,  he  travelled  from  Chunar  to  Cawnpore,  the  space 
of  four  hundred  miles.  At  that  time,  as  I  well  remem- 
ber, the  air  was  hot  and  dry,  as  that  which  I  have 
sometimes  felt  near  the  mouth  of  a  large  oven, — no 
friendly  cloud  or  verdant  carpet  of  grass  to  relieve  the 
eye  from  the  strong  glare  of  the  rays  of  the  sun,  frown- 
ing on  the  sandy  plains  of  the  Ganges.  Thus,  Mr. 
Martyn  travelled,  journeying  night  and  day,  and 
arrived  at  Cawnpore  in  such  a  state  that  he  fainted 
away  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  house.  When  we 
charged  him  with  the  rashness  of  hazarding  his  life  in 
this  manner,  he  always  pleaded  his  anxiety  to  get  to 
the  great  work.  He  remained  with  us  ten  days, 
suffering  considerably  at  times,  from  fever  and  pain 
in  the  chest." 

The  natives  for  whom  he  made  these  sacrifices 
received  him  with  little  attention,  and  his  public  utter- 
ances were  met  with  derision,  shouts,  and  hisses.  He 
solemnly  warned  them  of  death  and  the  judgment 
to  come,  and,  although  feeling  all  the  weakness  of  a 
dying  man,  he  exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  preach 
the  Gospel,  either  in  the  open  square,  or  from  the 
verandah  of  his  house.  He  writes  in  his  journal  very 
gratefully  of  the  baptism  of  a  poor  old  Hindu  woman, 
"  who,  though  she  knew  but  little,  was  lowliness 
itself." 

But  again  his  health  hopelessly  broke  down,  and 
the  earthly  tenement  of  that  brave,  heroic  soul  seemed 
nearly  shattered.  The  news  of  the  death  of  his 
youngest  sister,  following  so  close  upon  that  of  his 
elder,  accentuated  his  grief  and  weakness.     "  Oh,  my 

dearest  S ,"  he  wrote  just  before  the  sad  tidings 

came,  "  that   disease  which  preyed   upon   our  mother 


THE   WORD   OF   GOD    FOR   THE   PEOrLE.        IO9 

and  dear  sister,  and  has  often  shown  itself  in  me,  has, 
I  fear,  attacked  you.  Although  I  parted  from  you  in 
the  expectation  of  never  seeing  you  in  this  life,  and 
though  I  know  that  you  are,  and  have  long  been,  pre- 
pared to  go,  yet  to  lose  my  last  near  relation,  my  only 
sister,  in  nature  and  grace,  is  a  dreadful  stroke."  The 
stroke  fell,  and  the  brother  nearly  fell  with  it. 

The  gospels  of  his  Persian  New  Testament  had 
been  adjudged  by  the  authorities  at  Calcutta  to  abound 
too  much  with  Arabian  idioms,  and  were  returned  to 
Martyn  for  revision.  Instantly  he  resolved  to  leave 
Cawnpore~an3~ma"ke  his  way  to  Persia,  in  order  to 
make  the  work  absolutely  complete.  Referring  the 
decision  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Brown  of  Calcutta,  this  was 
the  reply  he  received  : — 

"  Can  I  then  bring  myself  to  cut  the  string  and  let 
you  go?  I  confess  I  could  not,  if  your  bodily  frame 
were  strong,  and  promised  to  last  for  half-a-century. 
But  as  you  burn  with  the  intenseness  and  rapid 
blaze  of  heated  phosphorus,  why  should  we  not  make 
the  most  of  you  ?  Your  flame  may  last  as  long,  and 
perhaps  longer,  in  Arabia  as  in  India.  Where  should 
this  phoenix  build  her  odoriferous  nest  but  in  the  land 
prophetically  called  the  blest  ?  And  where  shall  we 
ever  expect,  but  from  that  country,  the  True  Com- 
forter to  come  to  the  nations  of  the  East  ?  :  I  contem- 
plate your  New  Testament  springing  up,  as  it  were, 
from  dust  and  ashes,  but  beautiful  "  as  the  wings  of  a 
dove  covered  with  silver,  and  her  feathers  like  yellow 
gold."J 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


W 


BREAKS   DOWN. 

Christ  leads  me  through  no  darker  rooms 

Than  He  went  through  before  ; 
He  that  into  God's  kingdom  comes 

Must  enter  by  this  door. — Richard  Baxter. 

HILE  Henry  Martyn  was  still  at  Cawnpore, 
he  greatly  deplored  the  presence  and  work  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  missionaries  among  the 
natives.  In  the  regiment  to  which  he  was 
attached,  the  Romanist  soldiers  numbered  a  thousand, 
who,  while  they  paid  a  certain  amount  of  respect  to 
Martyn,  held  aloof  from  him,  lest  they  should  be 
infected  with  Protestant  teaching.  Their  priest  was 
an  Italian,  Julius  Caesar  by  name,  and  his  co-religion- 
ists in  the  barracks  did  not  fail  to  comment  upon  the 
simplicity  of  his  dress  as  a  Franciscan  friar,  compared 
with  the  luxurious  and  sporting  aspect  of  the  clergy 
of  the  Church  of  England  in  India.  With  this  Italian 
padre  Henry  Martyn  had  many  rather  heated  discus- 


BREAKS    DOWN.  Ill 

sions,  in  which  the  friar  came  off  second  best,  and 
was  much  shocked  at  the  denunciations  which  Martyn 
poured  forth  upon  Rome  for  her  idolatries.  "If  you 
had  uttered  such  a  sentiment  in  Italy  you  would  have 
been  burned,"  said  the  padre;  and  at  one  point  in  the 
discussion  seemed  so  afraid  of  being  converted,  that 
he  lifted  up  his  eyes  and  prayed  that  such  might  not 
be  the  case,  and  that  the  religion  of  the  Protestants 
might  never  enter  his  native  land.  Apart  from  his 
doctrinal  objection  to  Protestantism,  he  admitted  sub- 
sequently that  he  based  his  objections  to  its  teaching 
chiefly  upon  the  sorry  practice  of  godliness  which 
he  had  seen  amongst  its  professors  in  Geneva  and 
Leghorn.  Martyn,  with  his  characteristic  fairness, 
did  not  fail  to  see  the  advantages  of  Roman  Catholic 
discipline,  especially  among  the  troops  in  India  ;  and 
as  regards  the  energetic  padre,  he  could  not  help 
liking  the  man,  much  as  he  detested  his  opinions. 
He  notes  that  he  had  a  regard  for  this  "  serious  and 
unassuming  young  man."  But  contact  with  a  Romish 
priest  made  Martyn's  zeal  against  idolatry  and  false 
doctrine  flare  up  with  jealous  loyalty  to  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  many  spiritual  enemies 
in  India,  he  is  almost  startled  to  find  Romanising  so 
much  on  the  alert.  "  Who  would  have  thought,"  he 
exclaims,  '*  that  we  should  have  to  combat  Antichrist 
again  at  this  day  ?  I  feel  my  spirit  roused  to  preach 
against  Popery  with  all  the  zeal  of  Luther." 

While  working  away  with  untiring  energy  among 
the  natives  at  Cawnpore,  preaching  to  crowds  of 
beggars  from  the  verandah  of  his  house,  rebuking  the 
worldliness  of  the  Europeans,  instructing  the  native 
women,  and  consoling  the  sick  and  soul-distressed, 
]\Iartyn   experienced    such  a   break-down  of  health, 


112  HENRY   MARTYN. 

that  immediate  action  to  get  him  to  change  and  rest 
became  necessary.  His  old  malady  in  the  lung 
reappeared  with  serious  symptoms ;  his  voice,  never 
very  strong,  became  weaker  and  almost  inaudible,  and 
his  general  exhaustion  was  extreme.  He  decided 
very  reluctantly  to  leave  Cawnpore,  and  seek  restora- 
tion of  strength  by  a  holiday  in  journeys  through 
Persia  and  Arabia. 

Mrs.  Sherwood,  in  her  autobiography,  gives  us,  per- 
haps, the  best  idea  of  Martyn  at  this  time,  and  as  he 
was  a  constant  and  intimate  visitor  in  her  household 
circle,she  had  special  advantages  of  observinghim.  She 
thus  described  his  appearance  when  at  Cawnpore : — 

"  He  was  dressed  in  white,  and  looked  very  pale, 
which,  however,  was  nothing  singular  in  India  ;  his 
hair,  a  light  brown,  was  raised  from  his  forehead, 
which  was  a  remarkably  fine  one.  His  features  were 
not  regular,  but  the  expression  was  so  luminous,  so 
intellectual,  so  affectionate,  so  beaming  with  Divine 
charity,  that  no  one  could  have  looked  at  his  features 
and  thought  of  their  shape  and  form  ;  the  out-beam- 
ing of  his  soul  would  absorb  the  attention  of  every 
observer.  There  was  a  decided  air,  too,  of  the  gentle- 
man about  Mr.  Martyn,  and  a  perfection  of  manner, 
which  from  his  extreme  attention  to  all  minute  civili- 
ties, might  seem  almost  inconsistent  with  the  general 
bent  of  his  thoughts  to  the  most  serious  subjects.  He 
was  as  remarkable  for  ease  as  for  cheerfulness.  He 
did  not  appear  like  one  who  felt  the  necessity  of  con- 
tending with  the  world,  and  denying  himself  its 
delights,  but  rather  as  one  who  was  unconscious  of 
the  existence  of  any  attractions  in  the  world,  or  of 
any  delights  which  were  worthy  of  his  notice.  When 
he  relaxed  from  his  labours  in  the  presence  of  his 


DREAKS   DOWN.  II3 

friends,  it  was  to  play  and  laugh  like  an  innocent 
child,  more  especially  if  children  were  present  to  play 
and  laui,di  with  him." 

It  was  the  custom  of  Henry  Martyn  to  gather 
under  the  verandah  of  his  bungalow  a  large  crowd  of 
beggars,  fakirs,  and  the  very  off-scourings  of  the  place, 
to  whom  he  gave  money.  His  aim,  however,  was  to 
bring  them  within  reach  of  the  words  of  eternal 
life,  and  therefore  to  this  motley  assemblage  he  would 
stand  and  solemnly  read  the  Scriptures  in  Hindustani, 
to  which,  it  must  be  admitted,  they  listened  with  but 
slight  attention.  He  continued  this  until  the  very  last, 
and  again  quoting  from  the  interesting  recollections  of 
Mrs.  Sherwood,  we  have  a  very  affecting  account  of 
the  last  sermon  he  preached,  and  the  last  time  he 
spoke  to  these  wretched  people.  The  scene  vividly 
brings  before  us  the  man  and  his  sphere  of  work. 

"  From  his  first  arrival  at  the  station,  Mr.  Martyn 
had  been  labouring  to  effect  the  purpose  which  he 
then  saw  completed,  namely,  the  opening  of  a  place 
of  worship.  He  was  permitted  to  see  it,  to  address 
the  congregation  once,  and  then  he  was  summoned  to 
depart.  How  often,  how  very  often,  are  human 
beings  called  away,  perhaps  from  this  world,  at  the 
moment  they  have  been  enabled  to  bring  to  bear 
some  favourite  object.  Blessed  are  those  whose 
object  has  been  such  a  one  as  that  of  Henry  Martyn. 
Alas !  he  was  known  to  be,  even  then,  in  a  most 
dangerous  state  of  health,  either  burnt  within  by  slow 
inflammation,  which  gave  a  flush  to  his  cheek,  or  pale 
as  death  from  weakness  and  lassitude. 

"  On  this  occasion  the  bright  glow  prevailed  — a 
brilliant  light  shone  from  his  eyes — he  was  filled  with 
hope  and  joy,  he  saw  the  dawn  of  better  things,  he 

II 


114  HENRY   MARTYN. 

thought,  at  Cawnpore,  and  most  eloquent,  earnest, 
and  affectionate  was  his  address  to  the  congregation. 
Our  usual  party  accompanied  him  back  to  his 
bungalow,  where  being  arrived  he  sank,  as  was  often 
his  way,  nearly  fainting  on  a  sofa  in  the  hall.  Soon, 
however,  he  revived  a  little,  and  called  us  all  about 
him  to  sing.  It  was  then  that  we  sang  to  him  that 
sweet  hymn  which  thus  begins  : — 

" '  O  God,  our  help  in  ages  past, 
Our  hope  for  years  to  come, 
Our  shelter  from  the  stormy  blast, 
And  our  eternal  home.' 

"We  all  dined  early  together,  and  then  returned 
with  our  little  ones  to  enjoy  some  rest  and  quiet,  but 
when  the  sun  began  to  descend  to  the  horizon,  we 
again  went  over  to  Mr.  Martyn's  bungalow  to  hear 
his  last  address  to  the  Fakeers.  It  was  one  of  those 
sickly,  hazy,  burning  evenings  which  I  have  often 
before  described,  and  the  scene  was  precisely  such 
a  one  as  I  have  recounted  above.  Mr.  Martyn  nearly 
fainted  again  after  this  effort,  and  when  he  got  to  his 
house  with  his  friends  about  him,  he  told  us  that  he 
was  afraid  that  he  had  not  been  the  means  of  doing  the 
smallest  good  to  any  one  of  the  strange  people  whom 
he  had  thus  so  often  addressed.  He  did  not  even  know 
of  the  impression  he  had  been  enabled  to  make  on  one 
of  these  occasions  on  Shiek  Saleh.  On  the  Monday 
our  beloved  friend  went  to  his  boats  which  lay  at  the 
Ghaut  nearest  the  bungalow,  but  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening,  however,  whilst  Miss  Corrie  and  myself  were 
taking  the  air  in  our  tonjons,  he  came  after  us  on 
horseback.  There  was  a  gentle  sadness  in  his  aspect 
as  he  accompanied  me  home,  and  Miss  Corrie  came 
also.     Once  again  we  all  supped  together,  and  united 


BREAKS   DOWN.  II5 

in  one  last  hymn.  We  were  all  low,  very,  very  low ; 
we  could  never  expect  to  behold  again  that  face 
which  we  then  saw,  or  to  be  again  elevated  and 
instructed  by  that  conversation.  It  was  impossible  to 
hope  that  he  would  survive  the  fatigue  of  such  a 
journey  as  he  meditated.  Often  and  often,  when 
thinking  of  him,  have  these  verses,  so  frequently  sung 
by  him,  come  to  my  mind — 


X 
+ 


"  '  E'er  since  by  faith  I  saw  the  stream, 
Thy  flowing  wounds  supply, 
Redeeming  love  has  been  my  theme, 
And  shall  be  till  I  die. 

"  '  Then  in  a  nobler,  sweeter  song, 
I  '11  sing  Thy  power  to  save, 
When  this  poor  lisping,  stamm'ring  tongue 
Lies  silent  in  the  grave.'" 

He  then  departed,  after  farewells  which  he  evidently 
keenly  felt,  and  passed  down  the  river  to  Calcutta,  meet- 
ing with  his  friend,  the  Rev.  David  Brown,  once  more. 

His  friends  were  shocked  to  see  such  a  change  for 
the  worse  after  an  absence  of  four  years,  and  one  of 
his  brethren  who  had  followed  him  from  Cambridge, 
writing  to  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  gives  a  picture  of 
Martyn  at  that  time,  and  shows  what  hopes  and  fears 
alternated  respecting  his  prospects  of  recovery.  This 
correspondent  was  an  intimate  friend  of  the  Rev. 
Charles  Simeon,  and  had  reached  India  with  his  wife 
after  a  merciful  escape  from  the  shipwreck  of  their 
vessel.     He  writes  thus  of  Martyn  : — 

"  He  is  on  his  way  to  Arabia,  where  he  is  going  in 
pursuit  of  health  and  knowledge.  You  know  his 
genius  and  what  gigantic  strides  he  takes  in  every- 
thing. He  has  some  great  plan  in  his  mind  of  which  I 
am  no  competent  judge  ;  but  as  far  as  I  do  understand 


Il6  HENRY   MARTYN. 

it,  the  object  is  far  too  grand  for  one  short  Hfe,  and 
much  beyond  his  feeble  and  exhausted  frame.  Feeble 
it  is  indeed  !  how  fallen  and  changed  !  His  complaint 
lies  in  his  lungs  and  appears  to  be  an  incipient 
consumption.  But  let  us  hope  that  the  sea  air  may 
revive  him,  and  that  change  of  place  and  pursuit  may 
do  him  essential  service  and  continue  his  life  for 
many  years.  In  all  other  respects  he  is  exactly  the 
same  as  he  was.  (He  shines  in  all  the  dignity  of  love, 
and  seems  to  carry  about  him  such  a  heavenly 
majesty  as  impresses  the  mind  beyond  description. 
But  if  he  talks  much,  though  in  a  low  voice,  he  sinks 
and  we  are  reminded  of  his  being  '  dust  and  ashes.'  "y 
Martyn,  at  this  time,  was  persuaded  to  relinquish 
work,  and  applied  to  the  Governor-General,  Lord 
Minto,  and  the  Adjutant-General  of  the  Army,  for 
sick  leave,  which  was  readily  granted.  That  he  did 
so  is  almost  surprising,  considering  the  habitual  dis- 
regard paid  by  him  to  his  own  health.  For  if  ever 
there  was  a  worker  whose  aim  seemed  to  be  to  wear 
out  or  burn  out  in  his  labour,  Henry  Martyn  was  that 
man.  As  we  have  seen  in  his  journey  from  Dinapore 
to  Cawnpore,  the  young  missionary  disregarded  the 
important  consideration  of  climate  which  a  European 
must  observe  if  he  means  to  live,  and  he  worked  as 
though  his  strength  was  as  exhaustless  as  his  spiritual 
energy.  But  ere  this  collapse  came  at  Cawnpore  he 
had  been  warned  by  evidence  which  he  could  not 
gainsay,  that  disease,  the  fell  family  disease,  was 
making  way  in  his  system.  When  writing  to  his 
youngest  sister  his  last  letter,  to  which  reference  has 
already  been  made,  he  dreaded  "  that  disease  which 
preyed  upon  our  mother  and  dear  sister,  and  has 
often  shown  itself  in  me,  has,  I  fear,  attacked  you." 


i; REARS    DOWN.  II7 

It  Is  the  old,  old  pathetic  story  of  many  an  unwritten 
yet  noble  life,  of  the  spectral  truth  forcing  itself  upon 
the  attention  of  the  brave  soul  and  reminding  it  that 
the  frail  tenement  in  which  the  lic^ht  burns  so  brightly 
is  shaking,  and  may  fall,  though  the  crash  shall  give  it 
liberty  for  ever.  It  is  not  difficult  to  imagine  Henry 
Martyn  at  this  moment, the  pen  laid  down, the  thin  hand 
pressed  against  the  throbbing  brow,  the  eyes  lustrous 
with  an  eager  sorrow,  looking  away  beyond  the  waving 
palm  tree  and  the  azure  sky.  The  dear  w^ork,  not 
perhaps  to  be  touched  again,  the  vision  of  an  ever 
enlarging  usefulness  quenched  in  a  moment,  all  the 
glory  of  a  young  saint's  dream  fading  into  grey  death, 
the  beating  heart  marking  impressively  the  flight  of 
closing  hours.  Then  sunlight  comes,  a  Divine 
radiance  which  brings  back  the  hues  of  hope,  and 
through  the  brightness  speaks  a  voice  not  strange  to 
the  disciple,  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled."  And 
Martyn,  with  an  unspeakable  peace  in  his  heart,  faced 
with  a  joyful  faith  the  new  and  untried  path  in  which 
he  must  go.  "  I  now  pass  from  India  to  Arabia,  not 
knowing  the  things  which  shall  befall  me  there,  but 
assured  that  an  ever  faithful  God  and  Saviour  will  be 
with  me  in  all  places  whithersoever  I  go.  May  He 
guide  and  protect  me,  and  after  prospering  me  in  the 
thing  w^hereunto  I  go,  bring  me  back  again  to  my 
delightful  work  in  India!  I  am  perhaps  leaving  it  to 
see  it  no  more,  but  the  will  of  God  be  done,  my  times 
are  in  His  hand,  and  He  will  cut  them  as  short  as 
shall  be  most  for  my  good  ;  and  with  this  assurance 
I  feel  that  nothing  need  interrupt  my  work  or  my 
peace." 

Before  leaving  Calcutta,  Henry  Martyn  preached 
a  sermon  on  the  anniversary  of  the  Calcutta  Bible 


Il8  HENRY   MARTYN. 

Society,  in  which  he  pleaded  with  great  earnestness 
that  the  EngHsh  Christians  in  India  should  do  some- 
thing to  supply  their  nine  hundred  thousand  fellow- 
believers  in  that  country  with  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
His  text  was,  "one  thing  needful;"  and  a  copy  of 
that  discourse  is  in  the  Library  of  the  British  Museum, 
from  which  the  following  extract  is  given  : — 

"  Asia  must  be  our  care,  or,  if  not  all  Asia,  India, 
at  least,  must  look  to  none  but  us.  Honour  calls  it 
as  well  as  duty,  your  reputation  for  liberality  requires 
that  you  render  their  (the  natives)  assistance  unneces- 
sary. Let  us  make  haste  then  and  anticipate  their 
supplies,  and  thus  prove  to  our  friends  and  the  world 
that  the  mother-country  need  never  be  ashamed  of  her 
sons  in  India.  What  a  splendid  spectacle  does  she 
present !  Standing  firm  amid  the  overthrow  of  nations 
and  spreading  wide  the  shadow  of  her  wings  for  the 
protection  of  all,  she  finds  herself  at  leisure  amid 
the  tumult  of  war,  to  form  benevolent  projects  for 
the  best  interests  of  mankind.  Her  generals  and 
admirals  have  caused  the  thunder  of  her  power 
to  be  heard  throughout  the  earth  ;  now  her  ministers 
of  religion  perform  their  part  and  endeavour  to  fulfil 
the  high  destinies  of  heaven  in  favour  of  their 
country.  They  called  in  their  fellow-citizens  to 
cheer  the  desponding  natives  with  the  book  of 
the  promises  of  eternal  life,  and  thus  afford  them  that 
consolation  from  the  prospect  of  a  happier  world  which 
they  have  little  expectation  of  finding  amidst  the 
disasters  and  calamities  of  this.  The  summons  was 
obeyed.  As  fast  as  the  nature  of  the  undertaking 
became  understood,  and  perceived  to  be  clearly  dis- 
tinct from  all  party  business  and  visionary  projects, 
great  numbers  of  all  ranks  in  society  and  all  persua- 


r.REAKS    DOWN.  1 19 

sions  in  religion  joined  with  one  heart  and  soul,  and 
began  to  impart  freely  to  all  men,  that  which,  next  to 
the  Saviour,  is  God's  best  gift  to  man.  .  .  .  Imagine 
the  sad  situation  of  a  sick  or  dying  Christian,  who  has 
just  heard  enough  of  eternity  to  be  afraid  of  death 
and  not  enough  of  a  Saviour  to  look  beyond  it  with 
hope.  He  cannot  call  for  a  Bible  to  look  for  some- 
thing to  support  him,  or  ask  his  wife  or  child  to  read 
him  a  consolatory  chapter.  The  Bible,  alas,  is  a 
treasure  which  they  never  had  the  happiness  to 
possess.  Oh  pity  their  distress  !  you  that  have  hearts 
to  feel  for  the  miseries  of  your  fellow-creatures,  you 
that  have  discernment  to  see  that  a  wounded  spirit  is 
far  more  agonising  than  any  earth-begotten  woes,  you 
that  know  that  you  too  must  one  day  die,  oh  give 
unto  him  what  may  comfort  him  in  a  dying  hour. 
The  Lord  who  loves  our  brethren,  who  gave  His  life 
for  them  and  you,  who  gave  you  the  Bible  before 
them,  and  now  wills  that  they  should  receive  it  from 
you  ;  He  will  reward  you.  They  cannot  recompense 
you,  but  you  shall  be  recompensed  at  the  resurrection 
of  the  just.  The  King  Himself  will  say  to  you, 
'  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of 
these  My  brethren,  ye  have  done  it  unto  Me.'" 

In  this  spirit  he  takes  ship  in  the  Ahmoody  bound 
for  Bombay.  He  finds  a  very  agreeable  companion 
in  the  Honourable  Mountstewart  Elphinstone,  the 
distinguished  diplomatist,  who  was  on  his  way  to 
fulfil  his  duties  as  Resident  at  Poonah.  There  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  these  two  men,  widely  as 
their  ultimate  aims  diverged,  became  fast  friends  in 
this  voyage,  and  their  conversation  upon  a  multitude 
of  subjects  would  be  of  the  deepest  interest.  Besides 
this  congenial  society,  Martyn  was  pleased  to  get  into 


120  HENRY   MARTYN. 

conversation  with  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  who  had 
been  intimate  with  Schwartz,  and  told  him  much 
about  the  mission  schools  at  Panjore.  Amongst 
other  things  which  showed  how  highly  Schwartz  was 
appreciated  in  his  work,  he  mentioned  the  fact  that 
when  the  Rajah  was  in  fear  of  assassination  by  his 
subjects,  he  had  the  German  missionary  to  share  his 
room  as  protection,  because  he  was  held  in  such 
reverence  by  the  natives.  After  passing  through  the 
Bay  of  Bengal,  which  Martyn  scarcely  enjoyed,  being 
very  ill  and  prostrate  with  relaxing  weakness,  just 
lying  on  the  poop  as  the  ship  sped  on,  they  eventually 
reached  Bombay,  where  he  was  introduced  to  Sir 
John  Malcolm  and  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  Here 
with  perhaps  a  little  restoration  of  health,  he  seems 
to  have  spent  some  happy  days,  and  certainly 
gave  Sir  John  Malcolm  the  impression  that  he  was 
capital  company  and,  what  at  first  seems  rather  start- 
ling, that  he  was  a  cheerful  man.  When  he  left  for 
Persia,  he  received  from  Sir  John  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  Sir  Gore  Ouseley,  who  was  the  British  Resident 
in  that  country.  He  introduces  Martyn  as  "  alto- 
gether a  very  learned  and  cheerful  man,  but  a  great 
enthusiast  in  his  holy  calling.  I  am  satisfied  that 
if  you  ever  see  him,  you  will  be  pleased  with  him. 
He  will  give  you  grace  before  and  after  dinner  and 
admonish  such  of  your  party  as  take  the  Lord's  name 
in  vain,  but  his  good  sense  and  great  learning  will 
delight  you,  whilst  his  constant  cheerfulness  will  add 
to  the  hilarity  of  your  party." 

This  certainly  presents  the  young  missionary  in 
an  entirely  new  and  striking  light,  possibly  a  little 
over-coloured,  in  that  Sir  John  was  noted  for  his 
exuberant  spirits  and  bo?ihomie,  but  still  not  in  any 


liRKAKS    DOWN.  121 

way  can  it  be  dcprcciativc  of  Martyn's  character. 
^iThe  saintship  of  Henry  Martyn  docs  not  suffer 
because  he  could  enjoy  a  hearty  laugh,  for  it  is  surely 
true  thouj^h  apt  to  be  fori^otten  in  our  consideration 
of  good  men,  that  exceeding  gravity  is  not  necessarily 
the  evidence  of  abundant  grace,  and  that  there  is 
more  of  Heaven  in  laughter  than  in  tears. ' 

On  his  way  to  Bombay,  Martyn  landed  several 
times  at  different  places  on  the  coast,  spent  a  little 
time  in  the  cinnamon  groves  of  Ceylon,  and  calling 
at  Goa,  went  to  see  the  old  churches  there,  and 
especially  the  magnificent  tomb  of  St.  Francis  Xavier. 
Although  this  was  not  his  resting-place,  for  the  great 
Jesuit  missionary  died  on  the  Chinese  shores,  pious 
hands  had  here  prepared  a  costly  monument  to  his 
memory.  There  is  something  very  suggestive  in  this 
visit  of  Henry  Martyn  to  the  memorial  of  one  who  in 
many  respects  was  not  altogether  unlike  himself 
Perhaps  he  felt  this  while  talking  in  Latin  to  several  of 
the  monks  who  stood  with  him  by  the  tomb,  but  they 
on  their  part  could  scarcely  recognise  in  the  young 
English  priest  a  servant  of  the  Cross  who  should  as 
worthily  fulfil  his  true  mission,  and  ere  long  lay  down 
his  life  for  the  Master,  as  truly  as  after  preaching  a  far 
inferior  Gospel  did  the  great  Jesuit  on  the  sands  of 
Sancian  long  years  before. 

Previous  to  starting  for  Persia,  Martyn  met  with  a 
Parsee,  Ferroz  by  name,  who  could  speak  Persian,  and 
was  also  a  good  Arabic  scholar,  and  with  him  he  had 
several  discussions  on  the  subject  of  the  Christian 
religion.  This  man,  although  attempting  to  defend 
Mohammedanism,  was  evidently  without  any  definite 
religious  convictions  himself;  he  expressed  his  creed 
in  a  phrase  which  is  not  unfamiliar  to  our  ears  to-day. 


122  HENRY    MARTYN. 

"  Every  man  is  safe  in  his  own  religion,"  and  at 
another  time  spoke  contemptuously  of  the  religion  of 
Persia.  "  In  our  religion,"  he  said,  "  they  believe  as 
Zoroaster  taught,  that  the  heavens  and  earth  were 
made,  but  I  believe  no  such  thing." 

On  the  14th  of  April,  181 1,  the  coast  of  Persia  was 
sighted,  and  Martyn  went  on  shore  at  Muscat  in 
Arabia,  from  which  place  he  writes  a  long  letter  to 
Miss  Lydia  Grenfell,  describing  his  feelings  in  view  of 
that  country.  When  on  shore  he  met  with  an  African 
slave  in  a  little  garden  which  he  visited,  and  who 
argued  with  him  at  great  length  on  the  subject  of 
Christianity.  To  this  boy  he  gave  a  copy  of  the 
Gospels  in  Arabic,  which  he  began  eagerly  to  read 
and  carried  it  off  as  a  treasure. 

His  next  experience  was  with  a  party  of  Armenians 
at  whose  house  he  stayed  for  a  short  time  in  Bushire. 
The  Armenian  priest  does  not  seem  to  have  impressed 
him  greatly,  although  at  church  he  took  him  within 
the  altar  rails  and  censed  him  with  incense  four  times 
as  a  mark  of  special  favour.  Afterwards,  when  he 
had  the  opportunity  of  talking  to  the  old  priest  by 
the  shore  upon  spiritual  matters  he  found  him  very 
ignorant  and  inane. 

He  now  looked  ahead  very  anxiously  for  his  first 
contest  with  the  Persians  and  their  religious  leaders 
and  teachers,  the  MoUahs  and  Soofties. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

PERSECUTION    IN    PERSIA. 

Heaven  is,  dear  Lord,  where'er  Thou  art,        ^ 
Oh,  never  then  from  me  depart,  J- 

For  to  my  soul  'tis  hell  to  be 

But  for  one  moment  without  Thee. 

Bishop  Ken. 

ONCE  upon  Persian  soil,  Martyn  transformed 
his  outward  appearance  by  the  adoption  of  the 
native  costume.  He  tells  us  in  a  humorous 
way  of  the  complete  change  which  had  thus 
come  over  him,  so  utterly  different  from  the  simple 
black  cassock  or  white  surplice  of  his  days  in  India. 
He  now  wore  red  stockings  and  boots  in  one,  large 
blue  trousers,  then  a  white  shirt  under  his  bright 
tunic,  on  which  he  wore  the  bright  chintz  coat,  and 
also  an  overcoat.  His  headdress  was  a  huge  cone  of 
black  woolly  sheepskin,  and  he  began  to  accustom 
himself  to  the  new  experience  of  sitting  cross-legged 
on  a  Persian  carpet  in  the  absence  of  any  chairs. 
Perhaps  the  still  greater  change  was  in  his  letting  his 
beard  and  moustache  grow  ;  it  is  to  be  regretted  that 
no  portrait  exists  of  him  as  he  looked  then. 

123 


^ 


124  HENRY   MARTYN. 

After  paying  a  visit  to  the  governor  of  Bushire, 
a  characteristic  Persian  khan,  being  surrounded  with 
gorgeous  magnificence,  of  smooth  tongue  and  yet 
with  a  murderous  history  in  the  background,  Martyn 
and  his  party  began  their  journey  to  Shiraz.  The 
procession  across  the  plains  in  the  still  moonlight 
was  thoroughly  Oriental,  and  Martyn,  the  central 
figure  of  this  strange  company,  rode  slowly  along, 
thinking  upon  the  past,  and  that  strange  unknown 
experience  which  awaited  him  in  Persia.  He  tells  us 
that  his  reflections  were  somewhat  melancholy,  he 
had  only  recently  parted  with  his  European  friends, 
and  it  was  natural  that  he  should  be  impressed  with 
the  solemnity  and  loneliness  of  the  scene.  While 
they  moved  along  in  perfect  silence,  the  whole  vault 
of  heaven  above  them  studded  with  innumerable 
stars,  one  of  the  muleteers  began  in  plaintive  and 
sweet  cadences  to  sing  a  Persian  song.  Martyn 
noted  down  the  words  of  the  two  verses,  which  were 
as  follows  : — 

"  Think  not  that  e'er  my  heart  could  fail, 
Contented  far  from  thee, 
How  can  the  fresh-caught  nightingale 
^  Enjoy  tranquillity  ? 

y  "O  then  forsake  thy  friend  for  nought 

That  slanderous  tongues  can  say, 
The  heart  that  fixeth  where  it  aught, 
No  power  can  rend  away." 

Ere  long,  however,  the  sun  rose,  and  with  it  the 
rigours  and  sufferings  of  their  journey  began.  They 
pitched  their  tent  under  a  tree,  and  Martyn  wrapped 
himself  in  a  blanket  and  other  coverings  to  keep  out 
the  external  air,  so  preserving  the  moisture  of  the 
skin   for  a  short  time,  but  the   thermometer   rose  to 


rERSECUTION    IN    PERSIA.  T25 

126  dci^rccs  in  a  short  time.  His  fever  and  restless- 
ness now  became  so  great,  that  he  felt  the  end  must 
soon  come  if  no  alteration  in  the  temperature 
occurred.  The  welcome  evenini,^  came  at  last,  and 
with  the  darkness  a  delicious  cool  which  restored  the 
travellers  ;  but  the  next  day  the  heat  was  quite  as 
excessive,  and  Martyn  lay  quiet  with  his  head 
muffled  up  in  a  large  wet  towel,  as  a  defence  against 
the  sun's  vehement  rays.  Not  only  perils  by  climate 
tried  him  there,  for  a  scorpion  fastened  on  his  clothes, 
and  was  providentially  killed  before  it  bit  him,  which 
provoked  the  earnest  gratitude  of  the  young  mis- 
sionary. They  passed  a  river  slowly  moving  seawards, 
as  though  composed  of  thick  green  oil  ;  they  climbed 
mountains  with  such  dangerous  pathways,  that  it  was 
marvellous  how  the  poor  tired  horses  kept  their 
footing  ;  penetrated  dark  ravines  which  were  infested 
by  robbers,  and  from  the  extreme  of  burning  heat, 
they  found  themselves  in  a  plain  where  the  bitter 
wind  made  them  shiver  with  cold.  Soon,  however, 
fairer  scenes  burst  upon  their  view,  and  Martyn  tells 
us  in  his  journal : — "  We  pitched  our  tent  in  the  vale 
of  Dustarjan,  near  a  crystal  stream,  on  the  banks  of 
which  we  observed  the  clover  and  golden  cup,  the 
whole  valley  was  one  green  field,  in  which  large  herds 
of  cattle  were  browsing.  The  temperature  was  about 
that  of  spring  in  England.  Here  a  few  hours'  sleep 
recovered  me  in  some  degree  from  the  stupidity  in 
which  I  had  been  for  some  days.  I  awoke  with  a 
light  heart,  and  said,  '  He  knoweth  our  frame  ;  He 
remembereth  that  we  are  dust.  He  redeemeth  our 
life  from  destruction,  and  crowneth  us  with  lovino-- 
kindnesses  and  tender  mercies.  He  maketh  us  to  lie 
down  in  green  pastures,  and   leadeth  us  beside  the 


126  HENRY   MARTYN. 

still  waters.'  And  when  we  have  left  this  vale  of 
tears,  there  is  *  no  more  sorrow,  nor  sighing,  nor  any- 
more pain.  The  sun  shall  not  light  upon  thee  nor 
any  heat,  but  the  Lamb  shall  lead  thee  to  living 
fountains  of  waters.' " 

Henry  Martyn,  after  passing  through  Eri van,  with  its 
view  of  Ararat  behind  the  mosque,  reached  Shiraz,  and 
here  he  had  attained  the  ambition  of  meeting  the  false 
religion  of  Persia  at  its  very  seat  and  centre.  The  first 
thing  to  occupy  his  attention,  was  a  fresh  translation 
of  the  Testament  into  the  language  of  the  country,  to 
correct  the  shortcomings  of  the  one  he  had  completed 
in  India,  with  the  assistance  of  Sabat.  Before  com- 
mencing this  work,  however,  he  was  much  gratified 
by  a  visit  paid  to  him  by  two  learned  MoUkhs,  who 
had  come  to  discuss  with  him  upon  the  Mohammedan 
religion,  which  they  professed.  Unlike  his  previous 
experiences,  Martyn  found  these  men  capable  of  sus- 
taining a  quiet  and  temperate  exchange  of  opinion, 
and  when  one  of  them  read  from  his  translation  of 
the  beginning  of  St.  John's  gospel,  the  subject  of  the 
divinity  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  entered  upon. 
Evidently  these  teachers  had  imbibed  strange  notions 
of  Christianity,  and  when  the  interview  ended,  one  of 
them  made  the  pertinent  remark :  "  How  much 
misapprehension  is  removed  when  people  come  to  an 
explanation." 

He  had  the  advantage  of  the  friendship  of  a 
Persian  of  high  position  and  intelligence,  Jaffier  AH 
Khan,  who  received  him  into  his  house,  and  he  was 
further  delighted  to  find  that,  in  the  brother-in-law  of 
his  host,  one  Mirza  Seid  Ali  Khan,  he  would  have  a 
willing  and  capable  helper  in  the  work  of  translation. 
When  we  consider  that  these  individuals  were  staunch 


PERSECUTION    IN    PERSIA.  12/ 

Mohammedans,  their  generous  attention  and  kindness 
to  the  EngHsh  missionary  does  them  great  credit  In 
a  letter  to  Miss  Grenfell,  dated  the  23rd  of  June,  18 11, 
he  thus  describes  his  position  at  this  moment,  and  the 
impressions  which  have  been  formed  of  his  reasons  for 
coming  to  Persia  : — 

"  My  host  is  a  man  of  rank— his  name,  Jafficr  AH 
Khan — who  tries  to  make  the  period  of  my  captivity 
as  agreeable  as  possible.  His  wife,  for  he  has  but 
one,  never  appears ;  parties  of  young  ladies  come  to 
see  her,  but  though  they  stay  days  in  the  house,  he 
dare  not  go  into  the  room  where  they  are.  Without 
intending  a  compliment  to  your  sex,  I  must  say  that 
the  society  here,  from  the  exclusion  of  females,  is  as 
dull  as  it  can  well  be.  Perhaps,  however,  to  a  stranger 
like  myself,  the  most  social  circles  would  be  insipid. 
I  am  visited  by  all  the  great  and  the  learned  ;  the 
former  come  out  of  respect  to  my  country,  the  latter, 
to  my  profession.  The  conversations  with  the  latter 
are  always  upon  religion,  and  it  would  be  strange, 
indeed,  if,  with  the  armour  of  truth  on  the  right  hand 
and  on  the  left,  I  were  not  able  to  combat,  with  suc- 
cess, the  upholders  of  such  a  system  of  absurdity  and 
sin.  As  the  Persians  are  a  far  more  unprejudiced 
and  inquisitive  people  than  the  Indians,  and  do  not 
stand  quite  so  much  in  awe  of  an  Englishman  as  the 
timid  natives  of  Hindustan,  I  hope  they  will  learn 
something  from  me.  The  hope  of  this  reconciles  me  to 
the  necessity  imposed  on  me  of  staying  here  ;  about 
the  translation  I  dare  not  be  sanguine.  The  prevail- 
ing opinion  concerning  me  is  that  I  have  repaired  to 
Shiraz  in  order  to  become  a  Mussulman.  Others, 
more  sagacious,  say  that  I  shall  bring  from  India 
some  more,  under  a  pretence  of  making  them  Mussul- 


128  HENRY   MARTYN. 

mans,  but,  in  reality,  to  seize  the  place.  They  do  not 
seem  to  have  thought  of  my  wish  to  have  them  con- 
verted to  my  religion  ;  they  have  been  so  long  accus- 
tomed to  remain  without  proselytes  to  their  own." 

His  presence  soon  became  the  talk  of  the  city,  and, 
while  at  his  work,  he  was  constantly  interrupted  by 
callers,  who,  from  mere  curiosity,  or  in  a  few  cases  a 
real  desire  to  learn  something,  crowded  about  him. 
Jaffier  Ali  had,  with  just  thoughtfulness,  pitched  his 
guest  a  tent  in  the  gardens,  and  here,  by  the  margin 
of  a  little  rivulet  of  sparkling  water,  he  was  reminded 
of  home  and  his  native  land  by  the  sweet  briar,  jessa- 
mine, and  pinks,  which  grew  profusely  around.  Here 
he  held  audience,  and  answered  to  the  best  of  his 
ability  the  many  and  curious  questions  propounded 
to  him.  One  who  was  secretary  to  the  prince,  and 
had  the  reputation  of  being  the  principal  literary  man 
of  the  city,  told  him  point-blank  that  he  and  every 
created  thing  was  God,  quoting  the  words  of  the 
Koran,  "  God  can  be  with  another  thing  only  by  per- 
vading it ; "  then,  glancing  from  argument  into  poetry, 
the  Persian  recited  some  stanzas,  and  went  away. 

Another  asked  that  trite  poser  of  the  West  as  well 
as  the  East,  "  What  is  the  origin  of  evil  ? "  and  two 
young  men,  *'  fresh  from  college,  full  of  zeal  and  logic," 
were  for  discussing  the  question  of  disembodied  spirits 
and  similar  topics,  about  which  they  knew  nothing, 
and  could  not  well  increase  their  knowledge.  But  the 
Oriental  penchant  for  petty  cavilling  was  too  apparent 
to  justify  even  the  patience  of  Henry  Martyn,  who 
certainly  in  this  respect  had  the  charity  which  "  suf- 
fereth  long  and  is  kind." 

In  course  of  translating  the  fifth  of  St.  John's 
gospel,  his  co-worker  was  curious  to  have  an  explana- 


PERSECUTION    IN    PERSIA.  I3I 

tion  of  the  angel  troubling  the  waters,  and  when 
Martyn  suggested  that  natural  agents  might  be  called 
angels  he  seemed  satisfied. 

When  they  were  reading  together  the  account  of 
the  trial  of  Jesus,  and  how  the  servants  of  the  high 
priest  struck  the  Lord  in  the  face,  the  irreverence  and 
insult  seems  to  have  impressed  Martyn's  companion 
greatly,  for  he  said,  with  solemnity,  "  Sir,  did  not  his 
hand  dry  up  ?  "  There  is  a  touching  interest  in  many 
of  these  conversations  which  Martyn  has  very  briefly 
stated  in  his  journal,  and  they  show  us  not  only  the 
faithful  witness  declaring  the  truths  of  the  Gospel 
amid  such  darkness  of  unbelief,  but  also  show  that  in 
the  minds  of  his  inquirers  were  real  seekings  after 
more  light. 

A  Jew  Mohammedan  had  called,  and  held  a  long 
conversation  with  Martyn  about  the  Old  Testament, 
justifying  his  apostasy  by  declaring  that  Mohammed 
was  in  the  Books  of  Moses,  that  Europe  was  Mount 
Zion,  and  the  Edomites  the  natives  thereof  When 
the  talk  had  ended,  and  the  visitor  gone,  the  young 
Seid  AH  quietly  asked  Martyn  for  further  explanation 
about  this  same  Messiah  whom  the  Jews  had  rejected. 
He  listened  intently,  and  was  much  impressed  by 
hearing  in  his  own  language  the  fifty-third  chapter  of 
Isaiah,  and  his  desire  seemed  to  be  to  retain  the 
doctrines  of  Islam,  and  yet  embrace  Christianity. 
Henry  Martyn  firmly  but  affectionately  told  him  that 
this  would  never  do,  and,  after  a  time,  the  young 
Mussulman  told  his  instructor  how,  "  in  his  childhood, 
he  used  to  cry  while  hearing  of  the  sufferings  of 
Christ,"  and  while  he  spake  the  tears  agafn  ran  down 
his  face.  Surely  He  who,  beholding  the  young  man 
in  Galilee  loved  him,  had  also  a  tender  solicitude  for 


132  HENRY    MARTYN. 

this  young  Mussulman,  who  was  not  far  from  the 
Kingdom  of  God. 

After  a  formal  presentation  to  Prince  Abbas  Mirza, 
which  Martyn  graphically  described,  not  forgetting  to 
mention  his  own  extraordinary  court  costume,  wearing 
red  cloth  stockings,  and  rather  ungracefully  making  his 
way  to  the  hall  of  audience  in  high-heeled  green  shoes, 
we  find  him  obtaining  from  the  Moojtuhid,  or  pro- 
fessor of  the  Mohammedan  law,  leave  to  publicly 
discuss  religion.  Then  follows  an  argument  of  much 
interest,  in  which  Martyn,  as  much  at  home  with  the 
Koran  as  the  Bible,  completely  defeats  the  logic  of 
the  Mollahs,  and  discloses  the  heresies  of  Mohammed- 
anism and  the  mystic  foolishness  of  the  Soofties. 
These  victories,  however,  only  accentuated  the  malice 
of  his  enemies,  and  he  began  to  find  less  courtesy  in 
their  dealings  with  him.  This  animosity  afterwards 
culminated  in  a  scene  which  took  place  after  he  had 
left  Shiraz,  and  was  with  the  camp  of  the  King. 
It  cannot  be  told  better  than  in  his  own  words : — 

"  I  attended  the  Vizier's  levee,  where  there  was  a 
most  intemperate  and  clamorous  controversy  kept  up 
for  an  hour  or  two,  eight  or  ten  on  one  side,  and  I  on 
the  other.  Amongst  them  were  two  Mollahs,  the 
most  ignorant  of  any  I  have  yet  met  in  either  Persia 
or  India.  It  would  be  impossible  to  enumerate  all 
the  absurd  things  they  said.  Their  vulgarity  in 
interrupting  me  in  the  middle  of  a  speech  ;  their  utter 
ignorance  of  the  nature  of  an  argument,  their  impu- 
dent assertions  about  the  law  and  the  gospel,  neither 
of  which  they  had  ever  seen  in  their  lives,  aroused 
my  indignation  a  little.  I  wished  and  I  said  it  would 
have  been  well  if  Mirza  Abdoolwahad  had  been  there, 
I  should  have  then  had  a  man  of  sense  to  argue  with. 


rEKSECUTION    IN    PERSIA.  I33 

The  Vizlcr,  who  set  us  going  at  first,  joined  in  it 
latterly,  and  said,  *  You  had  better  say,  God  is  God, 
and  Mohammed  is  the  prophet  of  God.'  I  said,  *  God 
is  God,'  but  added,  instead  of '  Mohammed  is  the  pro- 
phet of  God,'  '  and  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God'  They 
had  no  sooner  heard  this,  which  I  had  avoided  bring- 
ing forward  till  then,  than  they  all  exclaimed  in 
contempt  and  rage,  '  He  is  neither  born  nor  begets,' 
and  rose  up  as  if  they  would  have  torn  me  to  pieces. 
One  of  them  said,  'What  will  you  say  when  your 
tongue  is  burnt  out  for  this  blasphemy  ? ' 

"  One  of  them  felt  for  me  a  little,  and  tried  to 
soften  the  severity  of  this  speech.  My  book,  which 
I  had  brought,  expecting  to  present  it  to  the  King, 
lay  before  Mirza  Sherfi.  As  they  all  rose  up  after 
this  to  go,  some  to  the  King,  and  some  away,  I  was 
afraid  they  would  trample  on  the  book,  so  I  went  in 
among  them  to  take  it  up,  and  wrapped  it  in  a  towel 
before  them,  while  they  looked  at  it  and  me  with 
supreme  contempt. 

"  Thus  I  walked  away  alone  to  my  tent,  to  pass  the 
rest  of  the  day  in  heat  and  dirt.  What  have  I  done, 
thought  I,  to  merit  all  this  scorn  ?  Nothing,  I  trust, 
but  bearing  testimony  to  Jesus." 


CHAPTER   X. 


ENTERS   THE   PRESENCE   FOR   EVERMORE. 


Thine  eyes  shall  see  the  King  I  the  Mighty  One, 
•*<*  The  many  crowned,  the  Light  enrobed,  and  He 

^^      Shall  bid  thee  share  the  kingdom.      He  hath  one 

Thine  eyes  shall  see  ! 

Frances  Ridley  Havergal. 

THE  air  was  full  of  storm,  but  Henry  Martyn 
faced  the  fury  of  the  Persian  zealots  with  a 
heart     strong     in    God.       He    had     bearded 

Mohammedanism  in  its  very  den,  and  plucked 
off  by  resistless  argument  the  crown  of  its  intellectual 
prestige.  The  Mollahs  who  stood  incensed  at  the 
name  of  the  Crucified,  were  doubly  angry  because 
the  Christian  teacher  had  so  well  vindicated  Plis 
cause  among  them.  For  a  time  these  philosophers 
had  been  gratified  to  air  their  ideas  with  characteristic 
prolixity  in  the  presence  of  such  a  distinguished 
stranger,  who  had  evidently  the  courteous  patience  to 
listen  to  them  ;  but  on  his  questions  being  put,  con- 
fusion filled  their  mind  and  discomfiture  their  faces, 
for  the  real  battle  had  begun.  From  thence  was  a  quick 
succession  on  the  old  lines  of  persecution,  either  the 

134  -        


ENTERS   THE   PRESENCE   FOR    EVERMORE.      1 35 

truth  must  be  silenced  by  argument,  or  the  witness 
thereof  quieted  by  harsher  means.  The  marvel  is 
that  Martyn  was  not  killed  outright  for  his  temerity, 
possibly  his  English  nationality  and  his  official 
relations  were,  humanly  speaking,  the  saving  condi- 
tions. 

While  at  Shiraz  he  was  more  than  once  struck  in 
the  public  streets.  This  he  seems  to  have  taken 
little  note  of,  but  one  day  happening  to  mention  to 
his  host,  Jaffier  Ali  Khan,  that  a  missile  as  big  as 
his  fist  had  struck  him  in  the  back,  a  swift  message  of 
complaint  was  sent  by  his  host  to  the  governor  of  the 
city,  who  had  it  declared  at  the  gates  that  a  bas- 
tinado would  be  the  portion  of  all  who  interfered  with 
the  Feringee  Nabob. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  in  the  discussions  in  which 
Martyn  was  involved  at  this  time,  the  apostate  Jew 
who  had  embraced  Islam  was  constantly  present,  and 
while  the  Mohammedan  Mollahs  were  reciting  from 
the  Koran,  this  Jew  quoted  from  the  Old  Testament, 
and  thus  the  issue  of  debate  often  became  much 
confused.  The  old  Israelite  was  evidently  ill  at  ease, 
and  although  there  is  no  evidence  given  that  he 
abandoned  the  double  falsity  of  his  position  in  favour 
of  Christianity,  he  must  have  been  impressed,  not 
only  by  the  logical  force  of  the  Christian  position, 
but  perhaps  more  by  the  devotion  and  self-forgetful- 
ness  of  its  witness  in  the  midst  of  so  many  enemies. 
So  alarming  were  the  inroads  made  by  Martyn  upon 
the  professed  wisdom  of  the  Mohammedan  faith,  that 
a  work  was  prepared  and  issued  in  Arabic  defending 
Islamism.  In  many  respects  this  was  one  of  the 
most  learned  and  weighty  apologies  for  the  religion 
ot  the  False   Prophet  that  has  ever  seen   the  light. 


136  HENRY   MARTYN. 

It  was  the  result  of  much  study  and  labour  on  the 
part  of  the  principal  Mollah,  and  in  it  he  makes 
the  following  concluding  appeal  to  Martyn  himself : — 
"  Thus  behold  then,  O  thou  that  art  wise,  and  con- 
sider with  the  eyes  of  justice,  since  thou  hast  no 
excuse  to  offer  to  God.  Thou  hast  wished  to  see  the 
truth  of  miracles.  We  desire  you  to  look  at  the 
great  Koran — that  is  an  everlasting  miracle." 

Henry  Martyn  could  not  let  this  pass  unnoticed, 
and  published  forthwith,  in  the  same  language,  an 
answer  thereto,  in  which  he  took  up  the  argument 
point  by  point,  closing  with  this  earnest  desire, 
worthy  of  a  true  Christian  : — 

"If  you  do  not  see  the  evidence  to  be  sufficient, 
my  prayer  is  that  God  may  guide  you,  so  that  you 
who  have  been  a  guide  to  men  in  the  way  you 
thought  right,  may  now  both  see  the  truth  and  call 
men  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  '  who  hath  loved 
us  and  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  His  blood.'  His 
glory  and  dominion  be  everlasting ! " 

Before  leaving  Shiraz,  Martyn  paid  a  visit  to  the 
ruins  of  ancient  Persepolis,  about  thirty  miles  away, 
and,  after  crossing  the  Araxas  by  night,  saw  the 
dawn  break  over  her  mouldering  columns  and 
arches,  the  remnant  of  a  glory  long  since  passed  away. 
Twenty-one  centuries  had  looked  down  upon  these 
buildings,  and  to  the  mind  of  the  English  missionary 
they  spoke  many  solemn  truths. 

After  a  stay  of  ten  months,  Martyn  left  the  Athens 
of  Persia  behind,  and  undertook  a  wearisome  journey 
of  eight  weeks  to  Tabriz,  in  order  to  obtain  the 
necessary  introduction  from  Sir  Gore  Ouseley,  the 
British  Ambassador  there,  before  presenting  his 
Testament  to  the  King.  ^  — ^—  -- 


ENTERS   THE    PRESENCE   FOR    EVERMORE.       1 37 

On  his  way  thither  he  passed  throui^di  Ispahan,  and 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Armenian  bishops, 
who  took  him  to  their  church.  Here  he  was  saddened 
by  the  utter  lack  of  spirituaHty  in  the  service,  and 
disgusted  to  see  at  the  time  of  the  sacrament  the 
priests  drink  off  the  sacred  wine,  and  devour  the 
bread  themselves,  while  the  congregation  of  poor 
people  waited  for  it  in  vain. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  King's  camp  at  Carech  he 
had  an  interview  with  Mirza  Shufi,  the  premier,  and 
passed  the  ordeal  of  a  close  questioning  by  this 
functionary,  who  was  not  wanting  in  the  curiosity  of 
Eastern  dignities.  At  another  time  Martyn  had  a 
long  conversation  with  a  Mussulman  in  the  cool  after 
sunset  on  the  roof  of  the  caravansary.  This  man, 
unlike  some  of  the  disputants  he  had  previously  met 
with,  was  deplorably  ignorant,  and  yet,  or  perhaps  in 
consequence,  had  a  perfect  opinion  of  his  own  infor- 
mation. His  geographical  knowledge  was  so  limited 
that  he  could  not  understand  upon  which  side  of 
India  Europe  was  situated  ;  and  his  historical  and 
theological  ideas  were  singularly  mixed.  He  told 
Martyn  that  he  knew  more  about  the  subject  of 
Christianity  than  he  did,  but  referring  to  Mohammed 
he  confessed  that  he  was  not  sure  whether  the 
mother  of  Mehdi  was  the  daughter  of  Simon  Peter, 
Plato,  or  the  Emperor  Constantine.  Martyn  shocked 
this  shallow  doctrinaire  by  asking  him  why  he  was 
a  Mohammedan,  and  then  followed  it  up  by  inquiring 
what  one  should  do  to  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  the 
truth  of  that  religion.  At  this  the  Mussulman  grew 
excited  in  the  prospect  of  making  a  convert  and 
solemnly  laid  down  this  injunction: 

"  Drink  no  wine  for  three  days,  pray  according  to 


138  HENRY   MARTYN. 

your  own  form  for  Divine  direction,  and  depend  upon 
it  you  will  find  it." 

"  But  supposing,"  said  the  missionary,  "  that  I  have 
no  such  doubts  in  my  mind  as  to  feel  any  need  of 
Divine  direction  ;  what  then  ?  " 

The  man  looked  at  him  with  amazed  disappoint- 
ment, and  evidently  giving  up  the  case  in  despair, 
said,  "  Why  then,  I  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  you, 
and  so  good-night." 

Pursuing  his  onward  way  he  found  the  journey 
most  distressing,  storms  of  rain  and  hail,  alternating 
with  fierce  heat,  no  food  to  be  had  for  days,  and 
rarely  any  adequate  shelter,  and  the  people  un- 
friendly and  inhospitable.  All  this  wrought  fearfuj_ 
havoc  with  the  health  of  Martyn,  for  nearly  the 
whole  time  he  was  in  a  raging  fever,  his  head  racked 
with  excruciating  pain.  And  yet,  in  the  midst  of 
these  miseries  he  retained  a  strong  faith  in  God,  and 
a  real  gratitude  to  Him  for  the  mercies  which  he 
discerned  through  all  these  trials.  One  night,  he 
writes  in  his  journal,  how  sweet  were  the  words  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Ephesians,  which  his  companion  read 
to  him  as  he  lay  in  bed,  and  at  another  time  when 
everything  seemed  lost  and  it  looked  as  if  the  journey 
could  not  terminate  except  fatally,  he  makes  the 
entry,  "  Last  night  I  felt  remarkably  well,  calm  and 
composed,  and  sat  reflecting  on  my  heavenly  rest 
with  more  sweetness  of  soul,  abstraction  from  the 
world,  and  solemn  views  of  God  than  I  have  had  for 
a  long  time.  Oh,  for  such  sacred  hours  !  This  short 
and  painful  life  would  scarcely  be  felt  could  I  live 
thus  at  heaven's  gate."  More  dead  than  alive  he 
reached  Tabriz  and  found  in  Sir  Gore  Ouseley  and  his 
excellent   lady   prompt  and   hospitable  friends.     At 


ENTERS   THE   PRESENCE    FOR    TCVERMOKE.       1 39 

this  house  of  Gains  he  was  thankful  to  remain  for  a 
time,  until  by  careful  nursing  and  attention  his  health 
was  restored.  But  he  could  not  disguise  from  himself 
the  injury  such  a  journey  had  inflicted  upon  his 
already  enfeebled  frame,  and,  as  once  more  he  took 
saddle  and  started  upon  his  thirteen  hundred  miles  to 
Constantinople,  he  felt,  and  his  letters  home  expressed 
the  conviction,  that  it  was  unlikely  that  he  should 
ever  live  to  reach  his  destination.  And  yet,  he 
realised  a  good  deal  of  encouragement  from  the  fact 
that  his  visit  to  Persia  had  already  created  a  new  and 
unexpected  interest  in  Christianity,  and  in  the  midst  of 
persecution  and  scoffing  there  were  signs  that  he  had 
not  laboured  altogether  in  vain.  "  The  Persians  will 
probably  take  the  lead  in  the  march  to  Zion,"  are  his 
words  when  speaking  of  the  preparations  of  the  way 
of  the  kings  of  the  East. 

Again,  it  must  be  noted  what  unlimited  faith 
Martyn  had  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  His  New 
Testament  had  been  presented  by  Sir  Gore  Ouseley 
to  the  King  while  its  translator  was  lying  ill.  And 
he  felt  that  the  Word  of  God  would  no  longer  be 
a  stranger  to  the  people  in  their  own  language. 
-The  promise  of  its  Divine  Author  was  that  "My 
word  shall  not  return  unto  Me  void,  but  shall 
accomplish  that  whereunto  I  sent  it,"  and  Martyn 
looked  confidently  for  its  fulfilment,  not  within  his 
own  fast-ebbing  lifetime,  but  in  a  future  when  other 
witnesses  should  enter  into  his  field  of  warfare  and, 
in  their  time,  fight  a  battle  for  the  Lord. 

When  he  got  well  away  from  Tabriz,  the  miseries 
of  his  last  journey  began.  He  had  engaged  a  servant 
to  speak  Persian,  who  proved  to  know  little  of  that 
language  ;  his  horses  turned  out  sorry  beasts,  and  the 


140  HENRY    MARTYN. 

heat  was  intense.  At  his  first  halting-place,  he  had 
to  be  content  with  a  stable,  and  in  the  next,  was 
crowded  with  his  luggage  in  a  wash-house,  but,  with 
these  surroundings,  he  beguiled  the  nightly  hours 
with  repeating  a  psalm  or  indulging  in  silent  specula- 
tions on  the  eighth  conjugation  of  the  Arabic  verb. 

Once  on  his  way,  he  was  gladdened  with  a  sight 
of  Ararat  lifting  its  serried  peaks  high  against  the 
blue  sky.  The  sight  was  rich  in  suggestions  to  his 
mind. 

"  I  fancied  many  a  spot  where  Noah  perhaps 
offered  his  sacrifices,  and  the  promise  of  God  that 
seed-time  and  harvest  should  not  cease,  appeared  to 
me  to  be  more  exactly  fulfilled  in  the  agreeable  plain 
in  which  it  was  spoken  than  elsewhere,  as  I  had 
not  seen  such  fertility  in  any  part  of  the  Shah's 
dominions.  Here  the  blessed  saint  landed  in  a  new 
world  ;  so  may  I,  safe  in  Christ,  outride  the  storms 
of  life  and  land  at  last  on  one  of  the  everlasting 
hills." 

Passing  onwards,  Martyn  reached  Ech  Meazin  or 
the  Three  Churches,  where  was  an  important  Arme- 
nian monastery.  Here  he  was  received  with  hospital- 
ity, and  was  greatly  interested  in  conversing  with  the 
Bishop  Nestus,  and,  especially,  with  one  of  the  monks, 
by  name  Serafino,  who  had  been  educated  in  Europe, 
and  could  speak  English,  French  and  Italian.  After 
many  pleasant  discussions  and  a  solemn  introduction 
to  the  aged  patriarch  Ephraim,  he  took  his  leave, 
saying  that  he  had  been  so  happy  with  them  that  he 
could  almost  be  willing  to  become  a  monk  amongst 
them.  The  old  man  shook  his  head,  remarking 
that  they  had  quite  enough,  but  who  shall  say  what 
amount  of  sincerity  was  in  the  young    missionary's 


REST    AT    LAST. 


141 


ENTERS   THE    PRESENCE   FOR    EVERMORE.       I43 

wish?  Warned  that  the  road  was  infested  by  robbers, 
Martyn  recommenced  his  journey  armed  with  a 
sword,  and  his  attendants  were  also  similarly  provided 
against  attack.  After  several  scares,  they  arrived  at 
Kars,  and  pushing  on  to  Erzeroum  found  themselves 
in  Turkish  dominions.  It  is  here  that  we  have  the 
first  mention  of  the  Tartar,  Hassan  Aga,  who  became, 
as  a  tormentor  of  Henry  Martyn,  a  worthy  successor 
of  Sabat.  Martyn  makes  a  note  of  a  rumour  that 
has  reached  him  from  the  front  which  unconsciously 
bespeaks  his  end. 

"  From  the  men  who  accompanied  Sir  Gore 
Ouseley  to  Constantinople,  I  learned  that  the  plague 
was  raging  in  Constantinople,  and  thousands  dying 
every  day.  One  of  the  Persians  had  died  of  it.  They 
added  that  the  inhabitants  of  Tokat  were  flying  from 
their  town  from  the  same  cause.  Thus  I  am  passing 
inevitably  into  imminent  danger.  O  Lord,  Thy  will 
be  done!  Living,  dying,  remember  me!"  This  was 
written  on  the  ist  of  October,  18 12,  and  in  less  than 
a  fortnight  afterwards  the  will  of  his  Lord  was  done, 
and  in  His  kingdom  He  remembered  him,  for  Henry 
Martyn  was  no  more. 

The  story  of  these  few  remaining  days  is  soon 
told.  Fever  began  again  to  waste  the  strength  of 
the  emaciated  traveller ;  sleepless  and  shaking  with 
ague,  he  found  ere  long  progress  was  impossible. 
The  Tartar  now  in  his  brute  cowardice  began  to 
dominate  his  master,  flew  into  a  passion  of  impatience, 
and  determined  to  hurry  him  on.  At  first  Martyn  had 
strength  enough  to  withstand  his  impetuosity.  "  He 
began  to  storm  furiously  at  my  detaining  him  so  long, 
but  I  quietly  let  him  spend  his  ire,  ate  my  breakfast 
composedly,  and  set  out  at  eight."     But  soon  Martyn 


144  HENRY   MARTYN. 

was  too  utterly  prostrate  to  resist,  and  Hassan,  fear- 
ing now  the  just  punishment  of  his  unfaithfulness  and 
presumption,  would  not  allow  even  a  temporary  stop- 
page at  the  villages.  Once  Martyn  got  off  his  horse 
to  the  ground,  and  assured  this  cruel  man,  "  that  he 
neither  could  nor  wQuld  go  any  farther."  At  last  he 
reached  a  village,  and  here,  Sergius,  his  servant, 
begged  for  a  place  where  his  master  might  be  alone. 
The  plea  was  really  for  a  place  to  die  in.  "Why 
should  he  be  alone?"  was  the  insulting  reply,  and  he 
was  thrust  into  a  stable,  where  a  huge  fire  was  burn- 
ing. He  implored  them  either  to  put  out  the  fire, 
which  made  him  frantic,  or  to  lay  him  on  the  ground 
outside.  "  Neither  request  was  attended  to  ;  my  ser- 
vant, who  from  my  sitting  in  that  strange  way  on  the 
ground,  believed  me  delirious,  was  deaf  to  all  I  said. 
At  last  I  pushed  my  head  in  amongst  the  luggage, 
and  lodged  it  on  the  damp  ground  and  slept." 

Another  day  of  awful  weakness,  mercilessly  hurried 
on  by  Hassan,  brought  him  to  Tokat,  where  on  the 
1 6th  of  October,  1812,  he  breathed  his  last.  How  or 
from  what  cause  Martyn  died  will  be  for  ever 
unknown.  Alone,  completely  shattered  in  health, 
surrounded  by  friendless  servitors,  in  the  walls  of  a 
city  smitten  with  pestilence,  his  soul  returned  at  His 
summons  to  its  God.  All  the  record  we  have  is  a 
scrap  of  his  writing,  penned  by  a  trembling  hand 
just  before  he  passed  away.  One  can  hardly  read 
these  words  save  through  a  mist  of  tears. 

"  No  horses  being  to  be  had,  I  had  an  unexpected 
V'repose.  I  sat  in  the  orchard,  and  thought  with  sweet 
comfort  and  peace  of  my  God,  in  solitude,  my  com- 
pany, my  friend  and  comforter.  /J^h,  when  shall  time 
give   place   to    Eternity !     When    shall   appear    that 


ENTERS   THE    PRESENCE    FOR    EVERMORE.       I45 

new  heaven  and  new  earth  wherein  dwelleth  right- 
eousness !  There,  there  shall  nowise  enter  in  anything 
that  defileth ;  none  of  that  wickedness  which  has\ 
made  men  worse  than  wild  beasts — none  of  those 
corruptions  which  add  still  more  to  the  miseries  of 
mortality,  shall  be  seen  or  heard  of  any  more."  / 

When  his  friends,  lamenting,  sought  his  remains 
afterwards,  it  was  difficult  to  discover  the  place  of  his 
interment,  although  they  were  told  that  the  Armenians 
buried  him  with  the  honours  of  an  Archbishop  ;  but  it 
is  more  likely  that  his  body  was  thrust  into  its  last  p 
resting-place  in  haste  and  disorder,  for  it  was  at  last 
found  beneath  a  huge  stone,  which  a  stream  had  left 
bare.  These  precious  bones  were  decently  re-interred, 
and  Mr.  Riel,  the  British  Resident  at  Bagdad,  inscribed 
over  them  : — 

"A    PIOUS    AND    FAITHFUL    SERVANT, 
Sacerdos  ac  Missionarhis  Angloricm^ 

CALLED    BY   THE    LORD   HIMSELF,    AS    HE   WAS    RETURNING 
•  TO    HIS    FATHERLAND."  1 

Afterwards,  an  obelisk  of  native  stone  was  erected 
on  the  spot  by  the  East  India  Company  to  his 
memory,  bearing  the  name  of  Henry  Martyn,  and  in 
English,  Armenian,  Persian,  and  Turkish,  declaring 
that  he  was,  "  One  who  was  known  in  the  East  as  a 
man  of  God." 

Standing  upon  an  eminence  overlooking  the  town, 
this  monument  of  the  honoured  dead  is  one  of  the 
places  which  the  pilgrim,  whose  footsteps  stray  so  far 
on  Persian  soil,  seeks  with  emotion,  and  where  he 
lingers  long  in  thinking  of  that  life  so  well  lived, 
and  here  laid  down. 

K 


146 


HENRY   MARTYN. 


When  the  news  of  his  death  arrived  in  England, 
Parliament  was  discussing  the  missionary  clauses  of 
the  East  India  Company's  Charter,  and  the  tidings 
became  the  means  of  opening  to  India  an  unrestricted 
preaching  of  the  Gospel. 

His  country  mourned  his  loss,  old  friends  wept  at 
the  news  of  his  death,  Cambridge  grieved  over  the 
loss  of  one  of  her  finest  and  most  honoured  sons,  and 
the    Church   of  God  was  one  noble  witness  less  on 


earth,  and    one    more 
writes  his  epitaph : — 


ni 


Heaven.     Thus    Macaulay 


l^ 


i 


"  Here  Martyn  lies. 


The  Christian  hero 
Religion,  sorrowing 


In  manhood's  early  bloom, 
finds  a  Pagan  tomb, 
o'er  her  favourite  son, 
Points  to  the  glorious  trophies  that  he  won. 
Eternal  trophies  !  not  with  carnage  red, 
Not  stained  with  tears,  by  helpless  captives  shed. 
But  trophies  of  the  Cross  !  for  that  dear  Name, 
Through  every  form  of  danger,  death,  and  shame, 
Onward  he  journeyed  to  a  happier  shore, 
Where  danger,  death,  and  shame  assault  no  more." 


BENARES    KKOM    THE   GANUES. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE   MAN    HIMSELF. 


\ 


Give  me  the  lowest  place  :  or  if  for  me 
That  lowest,  too  high,  make  one  more  low 

Where  I  may  sit  and  see 

My  God  and  love  Xhee  so. —  Christina  G.  Rossetti. 

ALTHOUGH  he  has  been  described  by  an 
eminent  writer,  as  "the  only  heroic  name 
which  adorns  the  annals  of  the  Church  of 
England  from  the  days  of  EHzabeth  to  our 
own,"  it  may  be  safely  affirmed  that  to  the  multitude 
of  his  countrymen  Henry  Martyn  is  but  little  known. 
This  is  not  because  he  has  lacked  able  biographers, 
but  the  fact  is  to  be  accounted  for  rather  by  the 
complex  and  sometimes  contradictory  elements  of 
his  character.  To  many,  Martyn  is  a  dim,  heroic 
personality,  to  others  a  distressful  ascetic,  to  most, 
a  man  of  remarkable  genius  allied  to  an  almost 
fanatic  zeal.  The  endeavour  has  been  made  in  the 
preceding  pages  to  tell  the  story  of  his  life,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  make  the  man  a  living  being  once 
more,  vivid  with    human  feeling,  as  well  as  instinct 

147 


148  HENRY    MARTYN. 

with  Divine  grace.  But  to  thoroughly  grasp  the 
man  and  the  situation,  it  is  necessary  to  characterise 
Martyn  a  little  more  closely  than  would  be  possible 
without  interrupting  the  continuity  of  the  story. 
The  mind  of  Martyn  and  his  worthy  work  having 
already  received  careful  and  discriminative  treatment 
at  the  hands  of  eminent  writers,  it  will  not  perhaps 
be  out  of  place  here  to  refer  to  these,  especially  for 
the  advantage  of  those  readers  who  are  stimulated 
to  pursue  further  a  life  history  of  enthralling  interest. 
Foremost,  not  only  in  time,  but  in  value,  among 
Martyn's  biographers  must  be  mentioned  the  name  of 
the  Rev.  George  Sargent,  who  so  far  back  as  1837 
wrote  his  memoir,  and  edited  the  journal  and  letters 
which  to-day  are  still  in  the  main,  the  only  authority  on 
his  life  and  labours.  It  is  not  perhaps  generally  known 
that  Martyn  was  on  the  point  of  destroying  the  greater 
part  of  his  journals  before  leaving  India  for  Persia, 
and  it  was  only  through  the  intercession  of  his  friend, 
the  Rev.  D.  Corrie,  that  these  precious  papers  were 
preserved  and  sealed  up  to  be  opened  at  his  death. 
From  the  hands  of  his  literary  executors,  the  Rev. 
Charles  Simeon  and  J.  Thornton,  Esq.,  the  MSS. 
passed  to  the  Rev.  George  Sargent,  who  was  admir- 
ably qualified  for  the  task  of  setting  them  in  order, 
and  giving  to  the  public  Martyn's  history,  chiefly  as 
told  by  himself.  The  work  was  done  with  a  loving 
appreciation  of  its  subject,  by  one  in  heartfelt  sym- 
pathy with  the  Christian  standpoint  of  that  evangelical 
doctrine,  which  Martyn  so  earnestly  believed  and 
preached.  Such  a  work  will  always  be  the  Life  of 
Martyn,  and  every  succeeding  biographer  must  be 
under  great  obligation  to  its  pages,  not  only  for  infor- 
mation, but  for  inspiration  in  striving  to  arrive  at  a 


THE   MAN    HIMSELF.  I49 

true  estimate  of  Henry  Martyn.  The  latest  edition 
is  published  by  Messrs.  Seeley  &  Co.  In  the  preface 
to  the  tenth  issue,  Mr.  Sargent  expresses  himself 
as  anxious  to  remove  a  misconception  as  to  the 
impression  which  seems  to  have  got  abroad  that 
Martyn  was  of  a  gloomy  disposition,  and  lacking 
in  human  sympathy.  This  view,  from  personal 
testimony,  he  clearly  disowns  and  assures  us  "that 
Henry  Martyn  was  not  less  cheerful  as  a  com- 
panion than  he  was  warm  -  hearted  as  a  friend." 
This  inaccurate  aspect  which  Mr.  Sargent  deplores 
was  unquestionably  due  to  readers  of  the  letters  and 
journals  taking  Martyn  at  his  own  estimate,  and 
accepting  as  literally  true  those  expressions  of  self- 
depreciation  to  which  he  constantly  gave  way. 
It  must  always  be  remembered  that  Henry  Martyn 
did  not  write  with  a  view  to  publication,  and 
therefore  much  of  his  religious  experience  found 
in  his  correspondence  and  records,  must  be  viewed 
from  the  standpoint  of  private  memoranda. 

After  the  edition  of  Journals  and  Letters  edited  by 
the  late  Bishop  Wilberforce  (1837),  i"  which  he  gives 
an  affectionate  memoir  of  his  son-in-law,  the  Rev.  Geo. 
Sargent,  who  had  passed  away,  the  next  reference  we 
have  to  Martyn  is  the  able  article  by  Sir  James 
Stephen  in  the  Edinbtirgh  Revieiv,  July,  1844.  The 
writer,  in  discussing  the  religious  aspect  of  Martyn's 
character,  thus  eloquently  sums  up  : — "  Prostrating  his 
soul  before  the  real  though  the  hidden  Presence  he 
adored,  his  doubts  were  silenced,  his  anxieties  soothed, 
and  every  meaner  passion  hushed  into  repose.  He 
pursued  Divine  truth  (as  all  who  would  succeed  in 
that  pursuit  must  pursue  it)  by  the  will  rather  than 
the  understanding  ;  by  sincerely  and  earnestly  search- 


150  HENRY    MARTYN. 

ing  out  the  light  which  had  come  into  the  world,  by- 
still  going  after  it  when  perceived,  by  following  its 
slightest  intimations  with  faith,  with  resignation,  and 
with  constancy,  though  the  path  it  disclosed  led  him 
from  the  friends  and  home  of  his  youth,  across  wide 
oceans  and  burning  deserts,  amid  contumely  and  con- 
tention, with  a  wasted  frame  and  overburdened  spirit. 
He  rose  to  the  sublime  in  character,  neither  by  the 
powers  of  his  intellect  nor  by  the  compass  of  his 
learning,  nor  by  the  subtilty,  the  range,  or  the  beauty 
of  his  conceptions  (for  in  all  these  he  was  surpassed  by 
many),  but  by  the  copiousness,  and  by  the  force  of  the 
living  fountains  by  which  his  spiritual  life  was  nour- 
ished. Estranged  from  a  world  once  too  fondly  loved, 
his  well-tutored  heart  learned  to  look  back  with  a  calm 
though  affectionate  melancholy  on  its  most  bitter  pri- 
vations. Insatiable  in  the  thirst  for  freedom,  holiness, 
and  peace,  he  maintained  an  ardour  of  devotion  which 
might  pass  for  an  erratic  delusion,  when  contrasted 
with  the  Sadducean  frigidity  of  other  worshippers. 
Regarding  all  the  members  of  the  great  human  family 
as  his  kindred  in  sorrow  and  in  exile,  his  zeal  for 
their  welfare  partook  more  of  the  fervour  of  domestic 
affection  than  of  the  kind  but  gentle  warmth  of  diffu- 
sive philanthropy.  Elevated  in  his  own  esteem  by 
the  consciousness  of  an  intimate  union  with  the 
Eternal  Source  of  all  virtue,  the  meek  missionary  of 
the  Cross  exhibited  no  obscure  resemblance  to  the 
unobtrusive  dignity,  the  unfaltering  purpose,  and  the 
indestructible  composure  of  Him  by  whom  the  Cross 
was  borne.  The  ill-disciplined  desires  of  youth,  now 
confined  within  one  deep  channel,  flowed  quickly 
towards  one  great  consummation  ;  nor  was  there  any 
faculty  of  his  soul,  or  any  treasure  of  his  accumulated 


THE   MAN    HIMSELF.  I51 

knowlcdi^c,  for  which  appropriate  exercise  was  not 
found  in  the  hii;h  enterprise  to  which  he  was 
devoted." 

One  of  the  most  important  publications  in  the 
hterature  of  Henry  Martyn  is  the  "  Life  of  Mrs.  Sher- 
wood," who  had  the  privilege  of  much  of  Martyn's 
society  while  at  Cawnpore.  This  book  gives  a  dehght- 
fuUy  simple  and  life-like  picture  of  her  friend,  and 
shows  him  as  being  full  of  tenderness,  and  rejoicing  in 
the  company  of  children.  Here  we  see  Martyn  sitting, 
after  much  weary  work,  with  Mrs.  Sherwood's  little 
daughter  (christened  by  himself  Lydia,  with  deep 
meaning),  on  his  knee,  the  child  caressing  the  pale, 
worn  man,  who  as  brightly  returned  her  love. 

We  are  also  led  into  the  personal  society  of  Martyn 
by  the  work  written  by  his  friend,  Dr.  Clement  Car- 
lyon,  entitled  "  Early  Years  and  Late  Reflections " 
(1856).  Without  exhibiting  any  considerable  parti- 
ality for  the  zeal  and  unsparing  directness  of  Martyn's 
manner  of  address,  he  cordially  appreciates  his  friend 
both  as  a  Christian  and  as  a  man  of  remarkable  ability. 
He  says : — "  I  can  answer  for  his  being  as  brave  as 
he  was  learned  and  good.  He  quailed  before  no  man. 
Accordingly,  we  find  at  their  last  interview,  Sir  J. 
Mackintosh,  who  doubtless  was  a  man  of  no  ordinary 
pretensions,  found  himself  drawn  into  a  philological 
discussion  with  a  stranger,  whose  mental  capacity  was 
commensurate  with  his  own." 

Certainly  the  best  analysis  of  Martyn's  character  is 
that  of  Sir  J.  W.  Kaye  in  his  "  Christianity  in  India  " 
(1859),  a  sketch  of  his  life  written  sympathetically  and 
yet  with  an  impartial  discrimination.  The  following 
is  the  estimate  which  this  distinguished  writer  forms 
of  Henry  I\Lirt)n  : — 


152 


HENRY   MARTYN. 


"A  Strange,  sensitive  being— a//  nerve — was  this 
young  Cornish  priest.  Irritable  and  impulsive,  of 
varying  moods,  sometimes  sanguine  and  hilarious,  at 
others  despairing  and  dejected,  he  was  wrenched  and 
torn  by  gusts  of  passion,  which  seemed  almost  to 
threaten  his  very  existence.     His  health  was  delicate, 


HENRY    MARTYN. 


and  he  had  overworked  himself.  He  seemed  to  be 
always  in  an  extreme  state  of  tension,  vibrating  to  the 
slightest  touch.  His  soul  never  rested.  Ever  alive 
with  emotion,  trembling  with  deep  joy  or  deeper 
sorrow,  with  wild  hope  or  profound  despair,  he  should 
have  had  the  frame  of  a  giant  to  sustain  the  shocks  of 
so  tempestuous  a  spirit." 


THE   MAN    HIMSELF.  1 53 

The  brilliant  authoress  of  the  standard  Life  of 
Bishop  Pattcson  was  never  more  at  home  than  in  her 
sketch  of  Henry  Martyn  in  "  Pioneers  and  Founders" 
(1871).  lie  seems  to  have  been  just  one  of  those 
natures  which  Miss  Yonge  would  thoroughly  compre- 
hend, and  she  has  truly  presented  in  her  only  too 
brief  memoir,  a  life-like  and  impressive  delineation  of 
his  character.  Martyn's  intense  spirituality,  consum- 
ing him  in  a  fire  of  zeal,  which,  little  by  Httle, 
destroyed  the  earthly  tabernacle,  until  life  went  out 
in  light,  is  finely  seen  in  her  admirable  portraiture. 

In  somewhat  the  same  strain,  from  the  High  Church 
point  of  view,  Canon  Mason  also  exhibits  Martyn  in 
an  article  in  the  ChurcJi  Quarterly  Revieiv.iox  October, 
1 88 1.  This  criticises,  rather  adversely,  the  Evan- 
gelical party  to  which  Martyn,  through  his  friend,  the 
Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  attached  himself,  and  attributes, 
perhaps,  not  altogether  without  warrant,  much  of  his 
melancholy  to  the  particular  religious  views  w^hich  he 
had  espoused.  Canon  Bell,  on  the  other  hand,  in 
his  admirable  little  Memoir  (1883),  treats  Henry 
Martyn  from  the  Evangelical  aspect,  and  gives  a 
devout  and  sympathetic  portraiture  of  the  missionary 
and  the  man. 

One  of  the  most  valuable  and  most  recent  additions 
to  our  knowledge  of  Martyn,  is  a  little  work  compris- 
ing two  sets  of  unpublished  letters,  edited,  with  pre- 
fatory remarks,  by  his  grand-nephew,  Henry  Martyn 
Jeffery,  M.A.,  F.R.S.  He  has  set  out  for  us  the 
family  pedigree  of  his  distinguished  relative,  and 
removed  the  erroneous  impression  as  to  his  father 
being  a  common  miner.  In  speaking  of  his  health 
and  overwork,  too,  he  has  had  the  courage  to  take  an 
extremely  sensible  view  of  "  what  might  have  been," 


154  HENRY   MARTYN. 

had  this  wonderful  witness  felt  the  prudent  leading  of 
a  faithful  friend  in  need. 

"  If  ever  a  man,"  he  says,  "  required  the  domestic 
control  of  a  sister  or  wife,  to  save  him  from  reckless 
waste  of  his  own  existence,  Henry  Martyn  needed  the 
affectionate  curb.  He  worked  in  India  at  the  Eastern 
languages  as  he  had  laboured  in  England  as  an 
undergraduate,  with  utter  self-abandonment.  .  .  . 
His  biographer,  Sargent,  comments  on  this  record 
with  complacent  admiration,  '  whatever  he  had  to  do 
he  did  it  with  all  his  might ; '  on  the  other  hand,  a 
wife  or  sister  would  simply  have  forbidden  self- 
sacrifice,  either  by  literary  toil,  by  fasting,  by  exposure 
to  the  sun,  or  by  preventible  hardships  in  travel,  which 
were,  in  fact,  the  combined  causes  of  his  premature 
death.  He  could  lecture  his  friend  and  coadjutor, 
Corrie,  for  wasting  his  health  by  impetuous  zeal,  but 
he  was  unable  to  apply  his  sage  counsel  to  his  own 
shortcomings.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Martyn's 
constitution,  congenitally  weak,  was  unprotected, 
either  by  himself  or  others,  and  he  died  prematurely, 
alone  and  unbefriended  by  man." 

A  flood  of  light  is  thrown  upon  the  rather  mystify- 
ing and  painfully  interesting  love  episode  of  Martyn's 
career,  by  the  recent  publication  of  a  volume  of 
Extracts  from  the  Religious  Diary  of  Miss  Lydia 
Grenfell,  edited  by  Mr.  Jeffery  (1890).  The  entries  of 
the  diary  are  so  entirely  of  a  devotional  and  personal 
character,  that  it  is  only  by  carefully  reading  the  pre- 
face by  Mr.  Jeffery,  that  their  significant  relevancy  is 
established.  Very  briefly  put,  the  case  of  Martyn's 
courtship  stands  thus.  This  lady  seems  to  have 
merited  fully  Mr.  Sargent's  encomium,  "One  of 
whom  less  ought  not,  and  more  cannot  be  said,  than 


THE   MAN    HIMSELF.  1 55 

that  she  was  worthy  of  him."  Her  family  was  ancient 
and  honourable,  having  affinity  with  some  of  the  most 
eminent  writers  of  our  age,  such  as  Professor  Max 
Miillcr,  J.  Anthony  PVoude,  Rev.  Charles  Kingsley, 
and  Lord  S.  G.  Osborne.  That  Martyn  loved  Miss 
Grenfell  is  evident,  but  when  his  proposal  for  her  to 
go  out  to  him  in  India  was  discussed  with,  and 
declined  by  her  mother,  she  yielded  to  parental 
authority,  almost  unaccountably.  But  the  truth  was, 
that  years  before  she  had  been  engaged  to  another, 
and  although  this  attachment  was  speedily  at  an  end, 
she  felt  bound  to  her  word  while  he  lived,  beincr  sub- 
ject  to,  as  Mr.  Jcffcry  tersely  puts  it,  "the  attach- 
ment of  a  widow  without  the  responsibility  of  a  wife." 
Though  this  individual  married,  and  unhappily  as  it 
turned  out,  she  still  held  to  her  vow,  and  thus  to 
Martyn's  heart-break  and  her  own  pain  the  only  woman 
that  he  loved  never  became  his  wife.  She  proposed 
to  write  to  him  as  a  sister,  and  the  resumption  of 
correspondence  even  on  this  basis  seems  to  have  lit 
up  with  a  sort  of  moonlight  of  faded  joy  the  wreck 
of  his  heart.  She  survived  him  until  the  i8th  of 
September,  1829,  when  in  turn  her  life,  pious,  sincere, 
and  suffering,  came  to  an  end. 

Shortly  before  leaving  India  for  Persia,  Martyn 
had  his  portrait  painted  and  sent  to  England,  as  a 
gift  to  his  revered  friend  the  Rev.  Charles  Simeon. 
This  was  in  turn  bequeathed  by  him  to  the  University 
of  Cambridge,  where  it  still  has  an  honoured  place. 
The  face  is  very  youthful,  and  to  our  mind,  shows 
little  trace  of  the  labour  and  suffering  which  even  up 
to  that  time  Martyn  had  endured.  But  we  have  Mr. 
Simeon's  testimony  as  to  the  excellency  of  the  por- 
traiture, and  his  words  in  a  letter  describing  his  feel- 


156  HENRY   MARTYN. 

ings  on  looking  upon  it  for  the  first  time,  are  so 
pathetic,  that  we  must  transcribe  an  extract  here. 
He  had  just  opened  and  hung  up  the  picture  of  his 
"  ever  dear  and  honoured  brother,"  and  writes  thus  to 
his  friend  Mr.  Thomason  : — 

"  I  had,  indeed,  after  it  was  opened  at  the  India 
House,  gone  to  see  it  there,  and,  notwithstanding  all 
that  you  had  said  respecting  it,  to  prepare  my  mind, 
I  was  so  overpowered  by  the  sight,  that  I  could  not 
bear  to  look  upon  it ;  but  turned  away  and  went  to  a 
distance,  covering  my  face,  and  in  spite  of  every  effort 
to  the  contrary,  crying  aloud  with  anguish  ;  E.  was 
with  me  and  all  the  bystanders  said  to  her,  'That, 
I  suppose,  is  his  father.'  And  I  think  it  probable 
that  if  I  had  been  his  father,  or  his  mother  either, 
I  should  not  have  felt  more  than  I  did  on  the  occa- 
sion. Shall  I  attempt  to  describe  to  you  the  venera- 
tion and  love  with  which  I  look  at  it?  No  words 
that  I  can  write  will  convey  an  adequate  idea ;  noth- 
ing but  your  own  tender  mind  can  exactly  conceive 
what  I  feel.  ...  In  seeing  how  much  he  is  worn 
I  am  constrained  to  call  to  my  relief  the  thought,  in 
zvhose  service  he  has  worn  himself  so  much,  and  this 
reconciles  me  to  the  idea  of  weakness,  of  sickness,  or 
even  if  God  were  so  to  appoint,  of  death  itself.  As 
for  your  abuse  of  the  painter's  device  to  represent 
India,  I  do  not  at  all  agree  with  you,  it  is  done  as 
well  as  I  wish  it :  and  the  portrait  itself  cannot 
I  think  be  excelled.  I  behold  in  it  all  the  mind  of 
my  honoured  brother :  and  if  a  thousand  guineas 
had  been  sent  me  instead  of  it,  they  would  really  and 
truly  be  lighter  than  the  dust  upon  the  balance  in 
comparison  of  it." 

These  words  were  written  just  before  the  tidings 


TIIK    MAN    IIIMSKLF.  157 

came  of  Marty n's  death,  and  from  that  time  the  pic- 
ture became  increasingly  precious  to  Mr.  Simeon. 

The  Rev.  William  Carus  in  an  editorial  note  upon 
the  letters  of  Mr.  Simeon  regarding  this  memorial  of 
his  deceased  friend,  tells  us,  "  Mr.  Simeon  used  to 
observe  of  Martyn's  picture,  whilst  looking  up  at  it 
with  affectionate  earnestness,  as  it  hung  over  his  fire- 
place, *  There  !  —  see  that  blessed  man  !  What  an 
expression  of  countenance  !  no  one  looks  at  me  as  he 
does — he  never  takes  his  eyes  off  one  ;  and  seems 
always  to  be  saying,  Be  serious — Don't  trifle — don't 
trifle.'  Then  smiling  at  the  picture  and  gently  bow- 
ing, he  added,  '  And  I  won't  trifle — I  won't  trifle.'  " 

Thus  from  the  evidence  of  those  who  have  deeply 
studied  his  life,  and  in  some  cases  personally  known 
him,  Henry  Martyn  in  the  foregoing  review  has 
been  set  forth.  There  is  little  really  to  add.  Of  / 
the  value  of  his  work  as  a  translator  of  the  sacred 
Word  it  is  impossible  for  the  human  mind  to  gauge 
its  importance  and  widespreading  influence.  By  his 
laborious  nights  and  exhausting  days  of  toil,  he  was 
able  to  place  portions  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  within 
reach  and  into  the  language  of  one-fourth  the  entire 
population  of  the  world.  His  New  Testament  in 
Hindi  and  Hindustani,  in  Persian,  the  gospels  in 
Judeo-Persic,  and  the  Prayer-Book  in  Hindustani  are 
only  some  of  the  results  of  his  work  in  this  direc- 
tion. There  is  a  golden  ring  about  the  metal  of  his 
allegiance  to  the  Bible,  and  he  who  had  such  faith  in 
the  inspired  Word,  felt  it  worth  while  working  as  he 
did  work  to  enable  his  dusky  brethren  in  the  East  to 
read  it  to  their  salvation. 

We  could  have  wished  that  in  his  letters  and 
journals   there   had   been   a   more  joyful   experience. 


158  HENRY   MARTYN. 

indicating  that  he  was  a  happier  man.  Even  in  a 
greater  degree  do  we  see  this  spirit  of  self-abasement 
in  the  diary  of  the  one  with  whom  he  fondly  and 
fruitlessly  hoped  he  might  enjoy  the  highest  and 
meetest  companionship  which  God  has  ordained  for 
man.  But  in  both  cases  it  is  more  than  probable  that 
such  expressions  of  gloomy  heart  condemnation  were 
the  characteristic  of  their  theological  school.  The 
sad  introspection  of  Martyn  is  one  of  the  most 
pathetic  phases  of  a  consecrated  life.  But  of  him  it 
may  justly  be  said  that  he  transferred  that  limitless 
confidence  in  self  which  marks  human  nature  to  a 
perfect  faith  in  his  God,  which  nothing  could  shake 
opdiminish. 
\r^  Martyn,  as  a  forerunner  of  Missions,  was  like  John 
/  the  Baptist  in  the  wilderness,  and  broke  the  ground 
j  which  has  since  been  so  gloriously  occupied  in  the 
ly  name  of  the  Lord.  Could  he  who  laid  down  his  life 
Y  in  the  King's  service  revisit  India  and  Persia  to-day, 
what  fruit  of  his  work  would  he  see  ?  He  would  find 
his  translations  distributed  in  thousands  by  labourers 
in  the  field,  who,  though  belonging  to  different 
sections  of  the  one  great  Church  of  God,  are  all 
agreed  that  the  seed  of  life  is  the  Word  of  GodTj 
Since  Martyn  lived  and  died,  others  have  followed  in 
his  footsteps,  have  fought  the  good  fight,  and  are  with 
him  crowned  to-day.  When  he  laboured,  this  Gospel 
light  in  foreign  fields  was  as  a  flickering  candle  blown 
about  amid  unfriendly  darkness  which  comprehended 
it  not,  now  these  distant  lands  are  ablaze  with  the 
good  news  of  Christ's  redemption,  and  where  witnesses 
of  the  Cross  have  yet  to  take  possession,  there  are 
hands  outstretched  for  help  and  brotherhood,  and 
hearts  yearning  with  the  cry  of  Macedon.    The  saintly 


THE   MAN    HIMSELF.  1 59 

life  of  usefulness  which  such  men  as  Martyn  led  has 
awakened  a  new  ambition  in  many  hearts,  and  from 
the  shores  of  England  and  America  men  and  women 
full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  with  Christ  in  heart  and  life, 
are  every  year  setting  off  on  the  Divine  commission  : 
"  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  Gospel  to 
every  creature." 

The  most  superficial  glance  at  the  Mission  Field  of 
India  to-day  will  disclose  the  rapid  progress  which 
has  been  made,  not  only  in  the  propagation  of  the 
Gospel,  but  the  permeation  of  the  governing  powers 
with  a  more  genuine  Christian  sentiment.  To  India, 
with  its  teeming  millions,  England  has  given  some  of 
her  holiest  and  most  useful  sons,  and  through  the 
length  and  breadth  of  that  deeply  interesting  land 
the  voice  of  the  Cross  is  heard.  Christian  intellects 
with  consecrated  zeal  following  in  the  steps  of 
Martyn,  are  grappling  successfully  with  the  philoso- 
phical aspects  of  the  creeds  of  Buddha  and  Islam, 
while  others,  content  with  a  simple  declaration  of  the 
salvation  of  Jesus  Christ,  are  striving  earnestly  to 
seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost.  The  darkness 
is  still  thick  over  the  country,  but  the  Christian 
Church  may  thank  God  and  take  courage  with 
regard  to  India,  where  almost  every  Missionary  Society 
has  its  representatives,  and  has  its  glorious  share  of 
garnered  sheaves  after  faithful  toil  for  the  Lord  of  the 
harvest.  How  much  of  this  present  success  is  due  to 
the  sacred  industry  of  Martyn  in  the  work  of  transla- 
ting the  Scriptures  into  the  vernacular,  eternity  can 
alone  reveal. 

Possibly  less  is  known  about  the  subsequent  work 
in  Persia,  that  country  which  has  a  remarkable  past 
associated  with  our  Bible  history,  but  is  at   present 


l60  HENRY    MARTYN. 

scarcely  emerging  from  a  dark  cave  of  Oriental 
oppression  and  superstition.  But  the  seed  which 
Martyn  sowed  bears  fruit,  and  the  translation  of  the 
Testament  which  the  Persians  so  insolently  discarded, 
has  opened  the  door  to  let  in  the  light  of  the  Gospel. 
Four  years  after  his  death,  Fidelia  Fiske  was  born 
in  her  quiet  New  England  home,  and  when  she  was 
but  a  girl  at  school  she  drove  one  night  thirty  miles 
through  blinding  snow  to  ask  her  mother  whether  she 
might  go  to  Persia  and  preach  the  Gospel  to  the 
women  there.  This  was  the  beginning  of  a  Christ- 
like Mission  which  is  not  unworthy  to  be  recorded  as 
a  sequence  to  Henry  Martyn's  work  in  that  land. 
He  attacked  their  learned  sophists  and  tore  the  mask 
from  Mohammedanism,  she  gathered  the  wretched 
girls  and  mothers  around  her,  and  told  the  story  of 
the  love  of  Jesus  until  the  revival  at  Oroomiah  was 
like  a  Pentecost.  Her  work,  and  that  of  her 
coadjutors,  has  been  followed  up  by  her  countrymen, 
and  for  fifty  years  the  American  Missionaries  have 
worked  hard  in  this  field.  The  English  Societies  are 
also  doing  good  service,  and  the  letters  from  the  front 
which  are  from  time  to  time  received,  speak  of 
victories  for  the  Cross  in  the  very  places  which,  when 
Martyn  passed  through,  were  immersed  in  Christless 
gloom. 

But  the  Church  of  God  will  never  forgot  the  one 
who,  loyal  to  his  Master,  bore  the  brunt  of  the  battle 
like  a  good  soldier  of  Christ,  counting  all  things  as 
nothing  to  win  the  fight,  and  from  his  dying  hand 
others  have  grasped  the  banner,  and  will  in  a  grand 
succession  of  service  and  martyrdom  pursue  the 
Divine  quest  of  souls  till  He  come. 

S.    W.    I'AKTKIDGE    AND    CO.,    Q    PATKKNUSTER    KOW,    LONDON. 


Date  Due                         1 

AP  21  '53 

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